Conversations
by Yet Another Pseudonym
Summary: What is spoken in private is truth.  Now with, holy maracas, Batman!, actual almost-chronological orderliness.  Will need to do a real sweep later...  Apologies for breaking the alert email link for "Rite and Wrong."  It's chapter 16.
1. Second Day

He sat with his back to the wall in the mess, some vaguely decent human-style food in front of him which he did his best to swallow.

"Hey, do you have a minute?"

"Perhaps a short moment before I return to Life Support."

"I didn't mean to interrupt anything."

"I did not mean to offend, Shepard. I am not comfortable in large, open spaces."

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Nothing. It is a side-effect of my occupation."

A nod.

"Please sit down, Shepard."

"Thanks. Listen, I just wanted to apologize for the reception you got from Jacob. I'm not sure what's bugging him, but I didn't want you to think that this is the kind of ship I run."

Not at all what he was expecting, not in light of the stories he'd heard about her.

"The treatment I received was not out of line with what I was expecting from Cerberus operatives."

"This _isn't_ a Cerberus mission, even though we've got probably too much Cerberus crew for my comfort. If anyone says anything offensive, or treats you like you don't belong here, I want you to tell me. That kind of bullshit isn't going to happen on this ship, not if the offenders want to keep their heads."

"Executions?"

"Nah, just a hell of a lot of yelling, and maybe I'll sit them down in front of a long, boring Alliance training vid on interspecies sensitivity."

"If you do not mind me saying so, you don't seem to match up to the rumors one hears."

"Does anyone? Wait, don't answer that."

"I was under the impression that you had mixed feelings, to put it diplomatically, about non-humans."

"Yeah, the rumors are a little too true—or they used to be. I guess you're not the only one who needs to atone. Anyway, I don't want you to be uncomfortable, so if you need anything, just give a holler."

"That is… very kind of you, Shepard."

"You act like that surprises you."

Direct. That aspect of the rumors appeared to be true.

"Perhaps a little."

"Well, hopefully it's a pleasant surprise." A smile, oddly attractive in her alien face. Even teeth, brilliant against dark skin.

"It is… not unpleasant."

"Right… Anyway, meet me and Garrus at the airlock in an hour. We have an asari Justicar to recruit."

"So, you are testing your newest recruit in combat?"

"You're damned impressive hand-to-hand, but I'm curious to see how you hold up dealing with a squad situation. It's completely different than your solo operation."

"I am your arm, Shepard."

"Oh, and you may want to talk to Garrus a bit. You two have a thing or two in common."

"Because we are both not human?"

"_Because_ I saw your sniper rifles, and _because_ he admired how you took out that merc without injuring those salarian workers. He's a hell of a shot, but he needs a little work on subtlety."

"I apologize."

"It's ok." Skeptical.

"I seem to have offended you once more."

"Nah, it's nothing." Eyes clenched. "Things have been a little rough recently, and I'm probably taking things harder than I should."

"You have been quite welcoming, Shepard. It is… appreciated."

"You seem to have a problem with me. So, out with it!"

"I'm unsure what to say. I prefer to make my judgments with time and observation rather than on the spur of the moment."

"I've caught a snap judgment or two in the last couple of minutes."

"I had not expected you to be so _observant_."

"Why not? Just because I do my shooting with an assault rifle instead of a more _refined_ weapon? Soldiers aren't morons."

_Sunset eyes defiant in the scope. Indignation_. Why that memory now? She stared at him, tiny bright eyes concerned, or so he read them.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be so loud."

"It seems I am the one who judged you, but you still apologize."

"You just kind of faded out for a minute. The last thing in the galaxy I want to do is make you uncomfortable here, when it seems like there's a whole ship full of people who would be just as glad to have you squirm for the entire mission."

"It was nothing."

"Your illness? Is there anything I can do?"

"No, not my illness."

"I get it—a private matter. I understand."

"You are not going to try to pry it out of me?"

Her head shook, shadowed hair motionless.

"But you would pry other things out of me."

"Pry? No. I just want to know what your problem with me is. We have to work together…"

"Your orders are mine, Shepard."

"That's not what I'm saying. I don't dispute your dedication to the mission, even if some the crew does. Things work better when we understand where we're all coming from. I want you to feel like you can rely on me the way that I know I can rely on you. You're part of my crew, and I care what you think."

_Trust, and unconditional at that._ He watched for the shifting he'd learned that humans used unconsciously when they wished to mislead, and detected none.

"All right, Shepard. I wish to know more about your association with Cerberus. They are not the most trustworthy organization."

Instead, she smiled, fragile and faint. Her eyes changed color to a pale red around her now purpled "irises." "Well, let's hope I can do a better job explaining it to you than I did to an old friend of mine on Horizon. I woke up when a bunch of mechs went rogue at the Cerberus base where I was 'brought back.' I ended up pairing up with Jacob and Miranda to escape, and then pretty much got roped in by the Illusive Man once I found out about the Collectors and this new Reaper plot. And that's about it. I don't trust Cerberus any more than I trust a rabid varren not to bite my hand off. But they _are_ working to stop the Reapers and the damned new Council won't listen to me any more than the original did, even if they still call me a Spectre.

"It's not my first choice, but it's the only choice I have if we're going to save humanity, or, hell, organic life itself."

"'The end justifies the means,' as you humans say?"

"Something like that."

"How did your friend react?"

"He called me a traitor, basically. The guy who fought Saren with me, and actually _talked_ to Sovereign said I was betraying the Alliance. So, hopefully, I made a better case for my actions with you than him…"

"I'm sorry, Shepard. We all do as we must."

"Pretty much. Is that all?"

"It seems cruel to speak of it now."

"I'm not a fragile little flower. I can take it. Lay it on me. Let's just clear the air once and for all."

"'Fragile' and 'flower' are not the first words I would associate with you."

She really did smile. And he noticed the shape of her lips around her bright teeth, soft and lush, wide and...

"I have heard many stories of your disregard for 'aliens.' You claim that you no longer feel that way."

"I don't."

"That seems a sudden change."

"I served with some damned fine men and women who weren't human. Garrus and Liara are about the only friends I have left in the galaxy. Tali was the best engineer and mechanic I've ever met. Wrex—damn. I've never met a better soldier, or maybe even friend."

"That was all it took?"

"Look, I've done a lot of things I regret. And I did a lot of them because I was stupid and ignorant. None of us are set in stone, Mr. Krios. I just hope I can eventually fix the mistakes I made."

"And your 'Alliance training vids on interspecies sensitivity' didn't teach _you_ properly?"

"I'm a little stubborn that way. Actually, the vids don't really teach you anything."

"So why would you force any intolerant Cerberus operatives to watch them?"

"Torture. Why else? After watching one of those damned things, I'm sure they'll keep their yaps shut."

She grinned, and almost despite himself, he laughed.


	2. Cheap Shot

"You know, I really don't get you. I mean, we just rescued Miranda's sister, and you're asking me about a crate of explosives."

"I had thought you to be efficient, Shepard. If you had just shot that container down from the conveyor, we might have arrived sooner and avoided that last firefight with Captain Enyala and the mercenaries."

"EDI had us covered."

"I find your reaction to my questions intriguing. Surely there must be some reason why you didn't shoot it down."

"You could have just as easily, you know. Or maybe even more easily, considering what a crack shot you are."

"My gun is yours, Shepard. You had but to order…"

"Nice dodge. So, what are your thoughts on the mission _other_ than the whole crate-shooting thing?"

"I suppose it is a good thing we spared Operative Lawson some pain."

"Funny, you don't seem to be too happy about it. You don't like her, do you?"

"She is colder than most of the humans I've met. I find the ship's AI to have a more pleasing personality."

"She's been through a lot."

"Perhaps she has. And perhaps her sister is better off, though she is in the hands of Cerberus."

"Miranda's dedicated to Cerberus. I'm not really seeing the problem."

"If, as you have stated, you fear Cerberus will betray us, do you not think that Operative Lawson's sister might be used as leverage?"

"Probably."

"And Operative Lawson may not even need to be manipulated."

"Well, we'll just have to see what happens. Worrying about it now gets us nowhere, and doesn't help us get ready to take on the Collectors."

"Perhaps not. But discussing the mission, aside from the crate you ignored, does not prepare us either."

"I didn't ignore it."

"Operative Lawson even indicated to you that you should shoot it down. Did you miss her nod? I found it almost too overt, and any reasonably alert mercenary could pick up on it."

"No. And?"

"If you did not ignore it, why did you not spare us all a firefight by shooting it?"

"Maybe because I didn't want to."

"Usually after several days of acquaintance, I can begin to understand the motives of an individual. You baffle me, Shepard."

"A little mystery isn't a bad thing." A smile. A surprisingly _attractive_ smile.

"Perhaps not. You are a rather _interesting_ wom—human. You're far more honest than I expected."

"Thanks." Her cheeks turned faintly shadowed, but whether black or deep red, he did not know.

"…but for your failure to tell me why you did not shoot that crate."

"Maybe the Collectors had something to do with that."

"I do not understand you, Shepard."

"Maybe it's best that way. Oriana's safe, and that's what really matters."

She stood and gathered up her plate. He kept his back to the wall.

"Yes, the young woman is safe. Is it not within my rights to understand why you endangered us needlessly?"

"You really want to know?" That smile again. On those lips. Soft lips.

"A reason might put my mind at ease, and perhaps restore some of my faith in you."

"Humans have a couple of expressions, 'cheap shot' and 'low blow.' Things you do to ensure a dirty victory when your enemy isn't expecting it. The Collectors took down the old Normandy with a cheap shot. I was killed with a cheap shot. I'm damned if I'm going to do that to anyone else. Those mercs deserved a chance to fight for their survival, or to surrender. Anything else is a low blow."

"Dishonorable."

"Yes."

He nodded. "You surprise me again, Shepard. It is better to die honorably, fighting for a noble cause, than to follow the path of sin."

"My thoughts exactly. Well, mine aren't quite so poetic."

He knew he'd take a bullet or two to see that smile again.


	3. Haunted

He'd learned her schedule, and found himself braving the mess far more often for it. This was likely dinner, and she'd probably saved a plate for him. He had as yet to understand why a ship's commander would do such a thing for an assassin, or why he seemed to seek her out. This time, she didn't sit waiting with two plates before her, or greet him with _that_ smile. Instead she slumped, and did not look up as he sat down across from her, back to the wall.

"Shepard?"

"Oh, hey."

"Are you not hungry? Do you wish me to get you something?"

"Nah, not really."

Pragia. She'd rained apologies down on him when she first noticed the sheets of water falling.

"Something is bothering you."

"Yeah."

"Did you not think Cerberus capable of such things?"

"Of course I did. I even got a weird message from the Illusive Man claiming he'd shut the facility down when he found out what they'd done there. See why ayy."

"I do not understand."

"CYA. It's a kind of sarcastic acronym for 'cov-urh yore ahss.'" _Ass covering._

"Would pants not do the same thing?"

A faint shadow of the smile, but better than none.

"You know, making sure you're not connected to something dirty or blamed for some mistake that's probably really your fault anyway."

"The Teltin facility was most unsettling. I've heard much about what Cerberus has done, but it is another thing see it with one's own eyes."

"Yeah…"

"But that is not what is bothering you?"

"A little, sure."

"Then what is it?"

"You sure you want to hear it? Jack's taking Pragia a lot better than I am. Damn, she's strong…"

"If you don't wish to speak of it, I understand. If I were not interested, however, I would not have asked."

"Thanks. Really. I guess there's only so much irony I can take. We're trying to stop Collector attacks on human colonies, but Cerberus actually _bought_ human children from the colonies' greatest plague. I joined the Alliance to kill the goddamned slavers and pirates, but now I'm _helping_ some of the bastards who helped fund those attacks."

"Mere irony has never stopped you before, Shepard."

"No, maybe not. I'm just getting pretty goddamned sick of seeing the worst humanity has to offer. What those bastards did to kids—to Jack… And I know they must have had the Illusive Man's stamp of approval at some point. Fuckers. Humans never learn anything. Ever."

"And you sit surrounded by evidence of human learning."

"Technologically, maybe. Morally? I look at this galaxy, and I look at all the wars humans fought over the centuries, and I just can't…"

"Can't do what?"

"You're more familiar with human philosophy than I am. Look at what's everywhere… Slavery, piracy, corporate crime, excess, greed, poverty… All of this shit has been hashed out over and over on Earth, but now we're repeating it all on a larger scale hundreds of years later. You spent time on Illium, where they run fucking ads promoting 'indentured servitude,' and debtors sell themselves into short-term slavery. Humans have blended right into that system. Sometimes I wonder if the Reapers don't have the right idea, just wiping everything out when it gets too damned decadent."

"You seem strangely cynical for a human. Your species is usually marked by excessive idealism."

"Not many humans have seen what we have. I don't think most would believe what Cerberus did there on Teltin, rogue facility or no. But what the hell do I know? I'm just a damned colony kid."

"You were raised in one of the colonies?"

"I told you I grew up a farmer. Earth doesn't have much room for farming anymore. We always had to worry about batarian slavers. I lost my home to them, but I was damned lucky thanks to the Alliance. And now I know where some of the kids who were taken ended up—bought and tortured by my own kind."

"Shepard, I'm sorry."

"Yeah, well, it's over. And I got out a lot better than most of us."

"I can understand your aversion to non-humans a little better now."

"I can't. We've focused on the wrong enemy. It's not aliens humans have to worry about, but our own damned kind. We're our own worst enemies sometimes."

"But not all of the time."

"I never thought I'd see you sticking up for humanity after what we just saw."

"I saw more than just evil, Shepard. I saw a young woman, driven by her demons, show mercy for perhaps the first time in her life. I saw a second woman who claims to be ashamed of everything she has done, and who I sense is also haunted by her past, give selflessly of her own soul to help a criminal find some small measure of peace. Where you saw ruin, I saw new light born atop the galaxy's despair."

"I did it for the mission."

"Don't lie to me, Shepard. If you had only wished to aid Jack for the mission's sake, you would not have cared about that Aresh, nor would you have taken the time to listen to her. You would have moved in, set up the bomb, and moved out."

"Maybe."

"You seem to feel something more than compassion for her."

"Yeah… Maybe. I don't think I could have come out of what she suffered with my head screwed on anywhere nearly as straight. I admire her a little. She's damned strong, and resilient as hell. I shouldn't. I should hate her for what she's done, but I can't. I want to help her, but I know I can't, which makes it all worse."

"You've already helped her."

"I hope so. She's my crew and I should do better by her."

"Si—Shepard, you cannot take all of your 'crew's' pain upon yourself, no matter how you might wish to, and no matter how it is in your nature to do so. You are an immensely strong woman, and one I'm growing to truly appreciate, but even you cannot shoulder the weight of the galaxy."

"I…" He felt the denial in her, though she said nothing.

"You cannot take a simple compliment?"

She shrugged, and her cheeks shadowed.

"I admire you, Shepard. You are far more than I first thought you."

She stared down at the table for a moment, and when she looked up, he saw traces of faint red in her eyes, just as when she'd first spoken to him at that very table. "From you, that means the universe."


	4. Fathers

Perhaps meditating and reliving memory were not the best things to do just then, but she hadn't appeared on her usual schedule. The mess seemed empty without her, though a few crewmen chatted a table over. Part of him knew where she was, and that part was perhaps the part he should have ignored. She had managed to save Tali'Zorah from exile, and likely consoled the quarian as he waited and wallowed. _Does any father ever do right by his child?_ He heard the elevator's hum, and rose to fetch two plates of the "rigatoni bolognese" the mess sergeant had concocted—some kind of meat sauce over "pasta," as she had called it. Two plates he set down upon the table on opposing sides, and one voice was all he expected.

"Hey, have you been waiting all this time? Sorry."

But a second set of footsteps followed her smile, and a helmet poked its way around the corner.

"Shepard invited me for a chat. She says that talking to you always makes her feel better, and I could use a little of that right now." The quarian's voice quivered.

"Is that all right, Thane? I hope you don't mind."

"Of course not, Shepard." The second plate seemed rather lonely all of a sudden, and his hope that he could tell her what he truly thought vanished to dust. To _confess_.

"Ellen."

"Of course, 'Ellen.'" He appreciated her new familiarity, but not enough to truly indulge in it, or to feel it natural. He had another name for her that he thought fit her far better and that he dared not tell her just yet. "Please sit, Tali'Zorah."

"Hungry, Tali?"

"I don't think I'll be hungry for a long time. You two, eat!"

"You sure?"

He, however, did not hesitate with his tined human eating device. A "fork."

"Gardner has improved, Ellen. This is much better than last night's 'chicken parmigiana.'"

"That's because he used varren instead. Chicken's a lot less stringy and a lot more subtle."

"The 'cheese' was quite strong. There seems to be less of it on this dish."

"You don't like parmesan? Apparently that stuff was imported from Earth, or so they said on the Citadel."

"I do not wish to appear ungrateful."

"It's ok. I'm not really a fan either. I'm just hoping Gardner uses it up fast, so I suggested 'Italian Week' to get rid of it forever."

"You don't like Cerberus' food either?" Tali'Zorah asked. "The few dishes Gardner makes taste… _different_."

"It's all my fault. I listened to that turian chef who claimed it was a 'human delicacy,' and his prices were dirt cheap. Gardner requested some; I bought twice his requested quantity. You have no idea how much my stomach has regretted that ever since."

She sniffed at the cylinders that she'd impaled on her fork and wrinkled her nose.

"We will be eating this all week?"

"I checked earlier today, and last night's meal took most of our huge cheese stockpile. Thank God. Thank every god from every species that has ever existed. Next time he asks for that crap, I'll get him hummus instead. I'm not going to have my last meal before we hit the Collectors be drenched in that… _mierda_."

He remembered the "hummus," a thick, strangely grainy paste that, despite its texture had a pleasant and warm flavor, especially paired with the thin, flat, bumpy "pita" bread.

"Mierda? My translator does not seem to be working."

"Shit," Tali'Zorah said.

"Did I offend, Tali'Zorah?"

"No, no, don't be silly. The word means 'shit.'" She laughed, but it seemed forced. "Before I returned to the Migrant Fleet, I had translation programs for every known human language installed."

"What was it you wished to speak about?"

"Shepard told me you were separated from your father when you were young. What was it like? How did you survive?"

"Sorry, I didn't know if it was ok to tell her. That's all I said, though."

"Ellen, you did me no wrong."

She nodded.

"I was trained by the hanar from the age of six. They are quite warm, if you get the opportunity to know them well."

"Wait, the hanar took you from your parents? And you just let them?"

"Tali! Thane's parents were honoring the agreement the drell have with the hanar."

"What? Shepard, that's madness!"

He let his eyes flicker, and she picked up on his annoyance quickly enough. _If you were going to give her information, Si-Shepard, you should have given her all of it._

"Sorry, Thane, I guess I should have waited for you to tell her. Tali, not every species…"

"But that's madness! Worse than Xen's insanity!"

"Do not insult me, or my species, Tali'Zorah!"

"But… you… Right, I'm sorry." The quarian's voice dropped. "This was a bad idea, Shepard."

"Maybe it was. And it was my bad idea. I'm sorry, Thane, really. I thought—well, we've all lost our fathers, and maybe we could help…"

"It was a noble thought, Ellen. I am not sure how much help I could be. I have not had contact with my own father in years, though I have heard nothing of his death. Likely he survives still on Kahje."

"And you know what happened to mine…" She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, they'd turned almost the same color as the sauce on the "pasta."

"Do you feel any anger toward your father?" the quarian asked.

"No, not at all. My family was honored that I was chosen to aid the hanar."

"What about you, Shepard?"

"For a few years, yeah. Actually, a hell of a lot of years. Now I just wish he was here so I could tell him I'm sorry for hating him."

"Did your father do something to hurt you, Ellen?"

"I… I can't really talk about it. Maybe later… He did something that I understand now, but that I didn't understand then."

"I… understand. Perhaps some other time."

She nodded and mustered a close-lipped smile. _Later, in private, maybe. If I can handle it, _she seemed to say.

"But you were angry with him? Was he anything like my father?"

"Yeah. For a long time. But he wasn't anything like your father. He loved me, listened to me… If it hadn't been for the batarians, I would probably have had almost the ideal childhood. Aside from being squashed under settlement debt, that is. He and Mom were the best parents anyone could have, even if my pants had holes at the knees, and my shirts got too short at the sleeves."

"I understand your anger at your own father, Tali'Zorah. Parental conflicts are common in most sapient species."

"If it weren't for the whole Cerberus thing, I'd probably have you talk to Miranda too."

"That bosh'tet? I'm just as happy you didn't, Shepard. Father had his proper tribute when we killed those geth, and you saved his reputation. He tried to give me the gift he thought I'd want, but… I want to yell at him. I want to slap him. I want to get him at the business end of my shotgun. He spent so much time driving me, expecting so much from me that he never…"

"That he never loved you, Tali'Zorah? His love may not have been expressed the way you wish, but he did love you. That much was clear from Admiral Raan's words. A father can do so much to wound his child, even if he loves the child with all his heart and would move the galaxy for him or her."

"I know… And that makes it hurt more."

She put her hand on the quarian's shoulder.

"Don't feel guilty for being mad, Tali. Your feelings are what they are. He drove you hard, and never told you how he truly felt for you. You know what his last words to you were. Get good and angry, and just let it all out of you. Then you can appreciate his love."

"That seemed to work well for you, Shepard." A snort through the quarian's helmet speaker.

"Well, I wasn't strong enough to let myself feel my anger. That's why I'm hoping you'll be smarter than I was about grieving. I never allowed myself the space or to accept that I was mad as hell. It's going to take me years to clean up some of the messes I made because I couldn't…"

He tried not to twitch as she trailed off. What had he done? Would she accept his confession with the same compassion she showed everyone else?

"I am sorry, Tali'Zorah, but I am perhaps not the person to help you. Ellen seems to have far more experience than I do in dealing with the loss of a father. If you will both excuse me, I must meditate."

"But you haven't finished eating yet!" She pointed at his plate and wrinkled her brow. "Don't go!"

"Remember, Tali'Zorah, that a father is perhaps more fallible than his offspring, and his actions may not reflect what is truly in his heart."

"Shepard?" The quarian's voice quavered more than usual.

But he had turned on his heel and he did his best not to sprint back to Life Support. He ignored the footfalls behind him and he only breathed again when the door shut behind him. _Arashu, let me at least make it to the chair before she catches up to me…_ The footsteps seemed to hesitate as he collapsed and folded his hands before him. The door cheeped.

"Thane, do you mind if I…" From the doorway.

"Come in, Ellen. For a moment."

She slipped into her chair, and even if she would not consider it such if he ever summoned enough courage to tell her what burned in him, for him it would always be _hers_, and hers alone.

"You ok? You just kind of took off."

"I… I am fine, Ellen."

"You sure? Because you look a little pale right now."

"I am fine, Shepard."

"Oh… I'm sorry. I never should have brought Tali up…"

"It is not Tali'Zorah's fault. But I must meditate."

"I know it's not Tali's fault. It's mine. Tell me what I have to do to make it up to you. Tell me what I did wrong."

"You did nothing wrong, Shepard."

"Then why? Never mind. I'm here if you want to talk. Do you at least want your food? I'll bring it to you."

The pain in her voice sent sharp knives through his heart. Why did she have to wake him? To stir him? To make him _hope_? He closed both lids so he didn't have to see her lips contort.

"Go comfort Tali'Zorah, _Ellen_. She needs you now. I will be fine, and we will talk later. But for now, I must meditate."

"I… All right. I'm sorry if I…"

When the door closed behind him, he released his hands and choked on his next breath. Then he looked down at the PDA before him. _Arashu, Mother of All, please grant that I have not offended your Siha, and grant me the courage to ask for her help. Kolyat needs her._


	5. Betrayal

He found her pacing back and forth like a caged animal in the Communications Room after she'd missed her usual meal. He'd waited far too long—after he'd emptied his plate, and most of the others in the mess had departed. He'd checked the time with EDI more than once, and by his own reckoning, and his own growing dread, he'd waited over an hour after he finished. Usually, when she felt most tormented, she beat him to the mess, and waited, plates ready with fingers tapping. And if there were a day he'd expected to find her tortured, it would have been this one.

"Ellen?"

She whirled on him and then every last stray bit of energy that had him vibrating the moment the doors opened vanished. She sagged against the table.

"Hey."

"Am I still volunteering to work with Cerberus?"

"Or did we quit?" Humans could, apparently, snicker in the midst of exasperation. "Nah, I'm not smart enough."

He leaned against the table next to her and took in her heat. She took the edge off the room's cold despite his inability to muster the courage to take her hand.

"So, was everything as it seemed on the vessel?"

"And worse. The motherfucker wanted me to lie to Miranda, Jacob and Mordin. To claim he didn't actually do what he already did to us on Horizon."

"Did you?"

"I should have sucked it up for the team. But, fuck. No. I couldn't do it. Miranda's report to the asshole's going to have some choice words in it. And Mordin supports him!"

"I've heard much of salarian utilitarianism, though I haven't studied it."

"Yeah, they make humans look like a bunch of emotional hotheads."

"Humans are, from what I've seen."

"Thanks a lot." But she grinned anyway. "So _this_ is what selling your soul feels like. Satan's sharpening his pitchfork right now in anticipation. I just wish I could get more credits out of it."

"You are religious?"

"Lapsed, I guess. I used to be, but, hell, I don't know anymore."

"My first inclination would have been to suggest you pray to your god or gods for guidance, but it seems that might not be the best advice."

"I'd be better off shoving my fist down that motherfucker's throat."

"All of us would be if you did, Ellen."

"Never thought _you_ would say that…"

"Your fist did wonders for Zaeed's sanity. A good beating seems to straighten some humans out."

"Do me a favor—if I'm being a dumbass, whack me good, would you?"

"I could never 'whack' you. Besides, you seem to see reason with a word or two."

"Great, I knew I could count on you." She smiled, but more easily this time. "You should have sent me slamming into the wall over there just a second ago. Thrown me or warped me or whatever."

"Why, Ellen?"

"Because I'm still working for Cerberus."

"Is there another option if we are to save your people?"

"I… No… Or at least, I don't think so. Maybe we should start shopping around. But nobody believes the Reapers are real, the Alliance doesn't give a shit about remote colonies, and the Council doesn't trust me."

"Then your choice is clear. You do what you must for the sake of your people and the galaxy."

"_Fuck_. When this all started, I hoped I could get Anderson's help, but he's bogged down with the Council's blindness. There's only so much Admiral Hackett can do, and from the few communications he's sent me, he's barely holding the Alliance off my ass with Anderson's help."

"You're twitching."

"God, I fucking hate the Illusive Man! The asshole tells me he just sold me out, along with two of the people I care most about in the galaxy as he's slurping away on a glass of motherfucking whiskey and puffing like a shithead on a fucking cigarette."

_Two of the people Ellen cares most about in the galaxy… You and Vakarian._ He shouldn't have been warmed so much by her tossed-off words, not when she seemed so distressed.

"'Yes, Shepard,' fffft, 'you could have stayed on that ship a few more minutes,' glug, glug, 'and gotten the IFF so you could get through the relay. But instead,' fffft, 'I'm going to make you run another mission,' glug, glug. Silence. Silence. 'Aboard an old Reaper,' fffft. Exhale. 'The crew went silent,' glug. 'But you can find it. No problem.' Ffft. Exhale. 'The team's probably taking a long nap,' ffft, glug, silence, 'in the dirt. But I'm not going to' fffft 'tell you that for sure.' Motherfucker. I can't trust his intel _ever_ again. Not after Horizon, and not after this."

"It seems an agony to speak to him." He thought it an insult to laugh just then.

"The false flattery's the worst part. 'Shepard,' ffft, 'you're a natural leader,' glug, 'so you can find a way to lie to your crew.' Silence. 'Can I go now?' Ffft. Glug. Pause. 'No one can lie like you, Shepard.' Yeah, thanks for that, asshole."

Her voice went harsh and almost masculine during her impression. And that broke down the last of his reserves that held his laughter at bay.

"What did he do on Horizon?"

"The Collectors attacked because he leaked intel that the friend of mine I told you about was there. He _staged_ the attack to gather info, and so we'd 'stop' the invasions."

"Hm."

"I shouldn't even be telling you this. I should just shut the fuck up and pretend everything's ok for your sake and for the sake of the mission. I'm sorry."

"You can always be honest with me. It's better to know the truth of what we face than a sanitized lie."

"Why? Isn't optimism supposed to make you feel invincible?"

"Preparation trumps optimism in my own experience."

"Mine too."

"Will you lie to Vakarian?"

"No. But you notice I haven't exactly left the room yet."

"I had wondered what happened to you."

"I'm sorry… I just…"

"None of this is your fault, Ellen."

"I know, but, fuck… I kept you waiting, didn't I? I…"

He smiled. "You had reasons, more reasons than I could have anticipated."

"Thanks for finding me. I mean it."

"When do we begin the investigation of the Reaper?"

"A damned long time from now. We have a lot of odd missions to run first. We need more practice fighting together. We need upgrades and resources, and a shit-ton of credits. I'm not risking any more lives on that dipshit's 'intelligence' until I know we have the best weapons in the galaxy, the Normandy's indestructible, and our smallest teams can fight better than a full Alliance company."

"Why so much preparation?"

"It took the Fifth Fleet, and endless turian and asari ships to take out Sovereign. The Illusive Man claims this thing is dead, but I think he's full of shit. Especially if his investigative team has 'gone silent.' You've been briefed on Reaper indoctrination and their technology, from what I've seen, is so far beyond comprehension that we'd be crazy to board it as we are now. Shit, we've seen what the Collectors are capable of, and they're small potatoes by comparison."

"And if the Collectors take another colony full of innocents?"

She shrugged. "We're not much good to surviving colonies _dead_ aboard a 'dead' Reaper. You know, Jacob wants to rush off and get the IFF right now."

Taylor clearly had no sense of survival.

"When you have a moment, Si—Ellen, I need to speak to you."

"You're here right now."

"I… would prefer more familiar surroundings."

"Just tell me when."

"When you've faced Vakarian."

"Ah, you mean _never_, then." She put a hand on his arm, and he felt her warmth even through his sleeve. "Thanks for everything."


	6. Distraction

He'd never seen anyone so reckless behind the wheel of one of the taxis, and even Garrus had opted out of accompanying them. _Sure, Shepard, I'm going to trust you driving. I remember how your driving busted my ass-plates in the Mako._ He was starting to see why just about all of the crew blanched when she hopped into the driver's seat. She whizzed through traffic, just barely avoiding trucks and head-on collisions with other taxis, and as the g-force slammed him side to side, his stomach lurched even more. _Focus on Ellen. Worrying will not help Kolyat._

"I heard your earlier entanglement with Taylor."

"What about it?"

"He mentioned that you had once endorsed that radical human political party. Knowing what I do of you now, I find that difficult to believe."

"Terra Firma? Yeah, I did."

"Why would you do such a thing?"

"Because I was dumbass."

"Your reason is that simple?"

"No, not really. Old political habits die hard, even when your own brain tells you that you're wrong. After my parents were killed, after my colony was almost wiped off the map, I hated the Council for refusing to do a damned thing about the batarians. They wanted humans to settle the Traverse for the Council's own security, but didn't do jack shit to back us up. Humanity was left alone out there, and so many of us were abducted. Enslaved. Lost. Anything that jabbed a finger into the Council's collective eye had my support, even if I was slowly learning that aliens weren't all bad. Shit, I probably knew that even before I worked with all the non-humans on my crew. But knowing and believing are two different things."

"You despised the Council?"

"Yeah."

"Why? They have kept some measure of galactic peace for thousands of years."

"At what cost? Look at what they did to the krogan—neutered them after they saved the galaxy from the rachni. And look at how they shunned the volus, the race that gave them their economy. Humans were the newcomers, but they were just as eager to exploit us for their benefit without giving us anything worthwhile in return. Hell, the fuckers even had the audacity to program their 'avinas' to call any other species that wasn't asari, turian or salarian, 'lesser.' _Your_ species. The _hanar_. Fuck that."

"And your human supremacist party was supposed to argue for pan-sapient equality?"

"No, but any voice of dissent could have helped shatter their complacency just a little. I never had the Council's support when I tracked Saren. In fact, they did everything in their power to insult every last decision I made. Because I was human. Because I was _less_ than they were."

"Do you still believe this, Ellen?"

"Yes and no. Yes, I believe the Council didn't give most species a fair shake, but no, I think the endorsement was wrong."

"Why did you leave the Council to burn?"

"I didn't! Not deliberately. Hackett gave the order on my suggestion to focus all fire on Sovereign, rather than worrying about a single ship and three 'important' aliens. The entire _Citadel_ and _millions_ were in danger. I didn't shed too many tears when the _Destiny Ascension_ blew up, though. Not that our new mostly-human Council is any less blind, though."

"I… am not sure what to say to that."

"Me either, really. Meet the new boss—same as the old boss. A bureaucrat is a bureaucrat whether he has three fingers or five."

"The lesson you learned is that politicians are worthless? No other revelations?"

"Is that what you got from what I told you? No, what I learned is we all have our blind spots. Every species. Every individual. And we all probably have a hell of a lot more in common than we have differences."

He stared at her, and she felt his gaze even as she swerved to avoid another head-on collision.

"I'm sorry. Did I say something to insult you?"

"No, Ellen."

She nodded. "I'll leave you to your thoughts, then."

"My thoughts are the last thing I need to be left to. If I think too much upon my fears, I see nothing but Kolyat killing of his own accord as I run too slowly to stop him."

"I can't even begin to imagine how hard this is for you. I'll do my best, I promise. I just wish I could guarantee…"

"Ellen, you do this of your own will, and aid me without question when the goal is to save a politician who slanders your people."

"I'm not doing this for Talid."

"I know."

"Crap, you heard _that_ part of the fight?"

"When he accused you of favoring the aliens on the ship. I may have heard that."

"Ohgod… And the rest… Can I just go shoot myself now?"

"What does, 'Métetelo por el culo, pajero!' mean, Si—Ellen?"

"I bet you heard the part where he accused me of 'wanting.' Just great."

"'To get inside the snake's pants.' I believe I did hear that."

"And you'll never forget it, either…"

"You are not to blame for the crude thoughts of others, or for their crude speech. But you still haven't told me what that phrase means."

"It means, 'Shove it up your ass.'"

"A tight squeeze for Taylor."

"What with big huge pole he has wedged up there already…" She grinned.

It seemed wrong to laugh when…

"So you are not the least bit curious…"

"Of what happens when your zipper fails? Wait, I didn't say that…"

He allowed himself a laugh and his own thought at what her chest lumps might feel like in his grasp. But only for a moment, when the vision of Kolyat's tears took him over again.

"Hey, you ok?"

"I was thinking of atonement, and how one can never truly make restitution for one's sins. The efforts one makes after never completely undo the damage. I cannot truly atone for what I did to Kolyat."

"No, you can't. But that isn't what matters."

"You are not always a reassuring presence, Ellen."

"All I'm saying is that Kolyat is lucky to have what he has."

"You spoke of your father far differently, that you hated him for what he had done. Your easy acceptance of my confession surprised me after you spoke to Tali'Zorah. I would think that you'd hate me for my choice to leave Kolyat. What was it that your father did?"

"I'm sorry… I can't. Later, maybe, but not now. Kolyat has a chance to shed the bitterness that made me hate, and I'm not going to let him suffer the way I did. Not when he has a living father to love him."

"And yet you still speak to me when I abandoned my son."

"Beating yourself to death for it isn't going to help either of you."

"You do not believe that we should atone for our mistakes or for the wrongs we have done others?"

"We're more than the sum of our past actions."

"We are all accountable for our past actions, those we perform under our mind's control."

"Accountable for, yes, defined by, no. We grow, we change, and we evolve as we learn from each other. See yourself for what you are—a bright beam of light, chasing away the galaxy's darkness…" Her voice dropped so low he had to struggle to hear her. "…chasing away my darkness."

He swallowed, and the air seemed to thicken to a heavy soup. _I cannot accept your vision of me, Siha. Not yet._

"You're going to have to baby me through this. You want someone to hack all the security cams, I'm your woman. But I've never tracked anything before."

The nervousness in her voice thickened the air even more and he had to breathe in sharp, quick gasps.

"You will do fine, Ellen. I have faith in you, and faith that the gods might be looking out for us."

"I'll do my best."

She banked left and nearly flew them upside-down to avoid a slow-moving truck that headed straight for them.

"Just think of the zipper."

"What?" Her cheeks deepened as he smiled.

"Arashu has already granted me her protection. We have but to ask for Amonkira's aid."

She pulled them into a spot near the taxi stand, and he checked the dash's display. _She has even beaten the most optimistic arrival time. Arashu has indeed sent me one of her angels._


	7. In Your Eyes

It's Peter Gabriel's turn for an apology...

"I still don't see what was so bad about what you did."

She stirred some kind of sweetener into her coffee and looked at him over a towering plate of "Belgian waffle."

"I took lives slowly, Siha. With pleasure, I watched them scream as Irikah's broken body tormented my mind, every last inch of her wounded flesh marked forever in my memory. Perhaps I've atoned in helping Kolyat, but…"

"But, nothing. Those deaths are more than just understandable, they were _justified_ in this damned galaxy where the Council did _nothing_ to stop it from happening."

"There is no justification for choosing to kill or choosing to torture. Not deliberately, and not of one's own volition."

"Really? Then what the hell are we doing out here knocking over merc bases when the mission is simply to kill the Collectors?"

"I am your arm, Siha. You're the one who should answer that question."

"I can answer it just fine. What I want to know is why you're generally ok with it, when you weren't with killing those men. Who deserved it, I might add."

"And what is your answer?"

"We need the credits. We need _practice_ fighting together as a team so the Collectors won't clean our clocks. Shitty reasons, but pretty much the same reasons anyone joins a merc band."

"You send us into danger as an _exercise_?"

"Nothing we can't handle. I'll give the Illusive Man credit for putting together a pretty damned good team _without_ much of my input. Besides, sometimes some good comes out of it. Like those refinery workers on Zorya…"

"The cost was too high, Siha. For my soul, for Kolyat… Irikah should never have suffered for my actions. The sin was mine, and mine alone. I destroyed Kolyat's life seeking 'justice' for Irikah, and I let myself lose control, lose my training, and lose everything that Irikah taught me."

"You didn't destroy Kolyat. He's hurting, but he'll recover."

"Despite my actions."

She sighed deep and long.

"You saved Kolyat, Siha."

"Me? Please. All I did was punch him. Poor kid…"

"Your action seemed a little rash, but it was not one I would have thought to perform, even if it was successful."

"You saved him. Not me. I just saved that racist son of a bitch. I'm regretting that now."

"And Kolyat from prison."

"Give Bailey credit for that. I just did a little winking and nodding. You know."

"And you think I could have 'winked and nodded' quite so successfully? A man who can resist that wink is not a man who enjoys women."

"Now I understand why you wanted my help: my irresistible wink of doom."

"Siha, do you think Kolyat would have _allowed_ me to 'save' him if you hadn't been there?"

"I don't know. I'm just glad it worked out."

"Why do you consider those deaths justified, Siha? Especially when you know the cost to Kolyat, to me…"

"How _can't_ I? How many hanar will live free because you killed those bastards? How many human colony raids did you prevent? How many other Irikahs did you save? Or husbands you spared from grief? Maybe you could have given them cleaner deaths, or enjoyed killing them less, but it doesn't change the fact that _you saved lives_."

"And destroyed others. What makes one life more worthy than another?"

"Your actions. Simple. They were _slavers_. People who thrive and profit on the misery of others. Some scum doesn't deserve life."

"Three of those I killed were _human_, Siha. That alone does not trouble you?"

"_Fuck_ them."

He shook his head.

"I mean it. We should know better. My people fought _wars_ to stop slavery. We outlawed indenture hundreds of years ago. We learned the hard way that some things are worse than mere death or torture. You fought to stop that kind of evil, and you should take pride in the lives you saved."

"You claim I should be _proud_ of what I have done, when my absence hurt Irikah, and eventually killed her? Or that my vengeance nearly forced my son to my path? That I nearly became what Irikah taught me to despise?"

"I don't think you should have spent a decade suffering for it. I know you're not going to hear this, but I have to say it anyway. Every action has more than one way of looking at it, and more than one consequence. Your actions may have hurt you and Kolyat, but they helped countless others. You may not appreciate that, but I do. Thank you, on behalf of the people you saved. For people like my parents who died fighting in slaver raids. For the battered and broken the Alliance only barely managed to save. For those taken and chipped and tortured. For those the slavers 'rejected' and killed. For Talitha. For _me_."

"Talitha?"

"A young girl taken and enslaved from the colony I grew up in. She was _six_ when the batarians chipped her, and she was rescued a decade later by the Alliance. I had to talk her down from killing herself… Poor thing. She's getting counseling now and the education she missed out on when she was penned and tortured like an animal. You probably saved a lot of children from that fate, even if you can't see it."

"How do you see me, Siha? What I see is a sinner."

"Someone who loved with all his heart, and who suffered for the decision others made for him before he was even old enough to decide anything on his own. Someone who was willing to sacrifice everything he had and everything he was for that love. Someone, who, despite every handicap fate forced on him, still saved countless lives, no matter how it hurt him to do it, and how much he had to sacrifice. I see a man who insults himself, tortures himself, and hates himself for acts that brought light to the galaxy."

He stared at her, his eyelids aflutter. _No, I can't hear this, Siha. Not from you, from the woman whose father wounded her, and who, despite that, brought me light and life. I can't accept your truth._

"Poetry, Siha?"

"Is that what it is? It's the truth."

"Hm."

"So what does 'Siha' mean, anyway?"

"Someday I'll tell you."

"Not _that_ again! You're a damned tease, you know that?"

"A little mystery to unravel has never hurt a woman."

She stuck her tongue out between delicious pursed lips and made the strangest blatting noise he'd ever heard. A new form of human communication? He raised an eyebrow as she gathered up both empty plates and cups, but she just shook her head.

"What does that mean, Siha?"

"You'll find out when you tell me what 'Siha' means."

He waited to summon EDI until he was sure she'd left in the elevator.

"EDI, could you please tell me what Shepard's last gesture meant?"

When the AI finished speaking, he couldn't keep his laughter back.


	8. Vengeance

Vengeance

"I worry, Siha. You and I both know the weight and the true cost of vengeance, but you allowed him to take the shot."

"Garrus is a grown man, and he knows what's best for him."

"The path of vengeance costs us more than it might seem when we act upon it."

"Maybe for you, and maybe for me, but can you really say the same for Garrus?"

"That is what troubles me, Siha. For all that our minds are different, we come to many of the same conclusions. But I cannot fathom how you might think that it would be otherwise for him."

"I talked to him, and did my best to talk him out of killing Sidonis, but you were there—he chose a different course. I told him I'd help him, no matter what. It's what he wanted, and I think he knows what he needs better than I do."

"Do you truly believe that was enough? He has not yet felt the weight of his decision."

She nodded, and he withdrew his hand from hers.

"I wish I could have the same faith that you do. The true cost to his soul will be paid later."

"You say drell minds are different from humans'. Well, turian minds and values are different from ours. They believe in order and honor far more than most members of my species. They see themselves as part of a larger society, a larger whole. Whatever his reasons, Sidonis violated that trust…"

He never cut her off when she spoke , but this time, he couldn't keep silent. "You had no way of knowing that, and now there is no way to investigate what truly occurred."

"Maybe you should be talking to Garrus about this."

"Siha, Garrus leans on you for guidance."

"And he needs to learn to stand on his own. He's perfectly capable of making his own decisions. This was his decision to make."

"And it was not the correct one. You should not have aided him in bringing more chaos to the universe."

"Friends stand by each other."

"Only when it is correct to do so."

"It's hard to say what's right when you've seen your friend torn to pieces by missiles. Missiles that rained down on him because he was betrayed."

"This was not just _his_ vengeance, was it?"

"Thane…"

"Ease my mind, Siha; tell me that you acted only from friendship, and not from any desire to see the turian dead."

"And if I wasn't upset when I watched Sidonis fall? What would you say then?"

"I don't know."

"I wouldn't have pursued Sidonis on my own, and I wish Garrus had backed off. We wouldn't be talking about this now if he had."

"You joke about this as if it were not important."

"Look, I agree with you—it wasn't the right decision. But it wasn't my decision to make. I could have betrayed Garrus myself and warned Sidonis, but I couldn't do that to him. Not after spending hours pacing outside medbay and in the debriefing room waiting to hear he'd survived. He _earned_ the right to make that decision for himself after all he suffered and after it marked him forever."

"Some marks do not show until later, Siha. This act has marked him in ways that aren't as evident to the eye as his scarring is."

"Dammit… I know what your revenge cost you, but Garrus had nothing to lose. He'll come out of this stronger, and perhaps he'll find some peace in it."

"Your revenge gained you nothing."

"Torfan wasn't true revenge. The damned slavers who killed my family might still be out there. But I never expected to get even for what they took from me. Would real revenge make things easier? I don't know. But I'm not Garrus."

"I don't understand you, Siha. You normally stand so firmly on the side of what is correct, but you did this."

"I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt your trust in me. This isn't something I'd do myself, but…"

"But you behave as a Siha would. Perhaps your acts are beyond the ken of mere mortals."

When she smiled again, the galaxy seemed to right itself.


	9. Endearments

"Honey."

"A thick substance created by Earth insects called bees. A sweetener. An endearment for someone who you consider sweet."

"Dammit! Dear."

"One close to you, someone precious."

"Fuck. I guess English is out."

"You might try other endearments, Siha. There must be one in that language the translator won't pick up."

"Darrrling."

"Darling."

"Shit."

"That doesn't strike me as being particularly endearing, Siha."

"Ha ha."

"False laughter."

"I give up. You know, it's really not fair. Humans aren't quite as exotic as drell are."

"You've never surrendered so easily, Siha."

"Fine. Mon cher."

"The same as that other endearment you spoke earlier."

"Cheri."

"Darling."

"Crap. Mon coeur."

"My heart."

"Rrrrr."

"That might work, if the growl is one of passion."

**A day later:**

"Meri jaan."

"My life, my love."

"Dammit! I had to get a list from EDI—I don't actually speak Hindi. Meri sanam."

"Siha, you're not very original. 'Darling' again."

"Mere mehboob. Actually, that sounds too much like 'boohb.'"

"Slang for 'breast?'"

"Never mind."

**Three days later:**

"Bǎobèi. Forget it. I'll never get the tones right."

**Five days later:**

"Amore mio."

"My love, darling."

A sigh. "Cara mia."

"My dear."

"Fuck."

"Perhaps soon, my Siha."

**A week later:**

"Meu amor."

"After a week of research, 'my love,' is still the best you can do? Siha, I expected far more of you."

"Gatão."

"A feline—an Earth animal."

**Two weeks later:**

"I give up, cariño. This is the best I can do."

"Car-een-yo?"

"Hah! Finally! Gotcha, querido!"

"Keh-ri-do? My translator seems to have broken."

"It's about goddamned time!"

"And you won't enlighten me as to the meaning of these words?"

"Maybe someday I'll tell you what they mean."

"My Siha shows her vengeful side."

**Later that evening:**

"Darling? Both words mean 'darling,' Siha? I liked your 'darr-lihng' best of all of them."

"How did you find out?"

"EDI was most helpful."

"Cheater! No fair!"

"You could have chosen to ask EDI yourself, Siha."

"If I'm going to play a game, I'm going to play it _right_. Anyway, you have your choice, cariño or querido. 'Dar-ling' isn't on the list."

"Querido."

"Finally! Damn… This took forever, querido."


	10. Filicide

"Siha, are you well?"

"I… I don't know."

"I never knew humans could turn an almost drell-like shade of green."

"Trust me. We can."

"Ah, that human saying, 'you learn something new every day.' There is a certain irony in these missions: you rescue a son and set him on a kinder path to bring a father peace, but you help a mother destroy her own daughter to grant her freedom."

"How do you always know what I want to talk about? Sometimes I wonder if you were really born an alien and not my long-lost twin."

"Perhaps I wasn't."

"I knew it! Switched at birth and cosmetically altered to pass as a drell."

"What is it you wished to speak of?"

"Well, there's the fact that you haven't grilled me to death about this the way you tortured me about Sidonis. Isn't that a little weird?"

"Morinth was a criminal, and Samara lives by a brutal code."

"Yeah, but you're not going to tell me I did the wrong thing when I helped Samara? She lived for her own version of…"

"It cannot truly be called vengeance. She believed she wronged her daughter."

"True, but she lived and trained only to kill. Hundreds of years, querido. Farther back than I can trace my own ancestors. That's a little odd."

"Morinth enjoyed committing centuries worth of murders, Siha. Removing her from the galaxy rendered it a bit brighter."

"So the enjoyment made killing her a good thing? She was born that way."

"Merely eliminating a murderer would not cause you so much distress. What truly bothers you, Siha?"

"I just… I don't know. Maybe it's a human thing and I'm being a damned racist again, but killing your own child? I've never given birth, but after seeing you and your love for Kolyat, I thought that a parent's love for a child meant that they'd sacrifice anything for that child, and that this kind of love was something that transcended every species' differences. There wasn't any love in Samara's actions. None."

"Perhaps things are different when one lives a thousand years. I do not question Samara's need to atone for her 'mistake,' nor do I question the need to destroy a serial killer who has left centuries' worth of victims in her wake."

"But you get where I'm coming from, right?"

"What happened when you departed with Samara?" _A quick wave, a small smile, and a drell heart stops beating when the club door opens. She will be fine, he tells himself. Samara can watch over her in your stead._

"Ugliness. The things Samara said… How could any parent say what she did? My parents died to save me… I…"

"Tell me what she said."

"No one should hear those things. No one. Not a murderer. Not a slaver. And something she told me after… The cost to destroy Morinth was too high…"

A pause. A deep breath, and his heart beat once more when she spoke again.

"Morinth said, 'Mother.' Samara denied her. 'Don't call me that.' 'I can't choose not to be your daughter…' There was so much slamming, so many biotic fields flying as they threw each other all over the room. And then Samara said, 'You are a disease to be purged, nothing more.' Not a person, not a daughter… A damnable disease that she inherited through some cruel fluke of fate or God fucking with her. They locked together, and neither could destroy the other. I yanked Morinth's arm to break her field, and Samara blew her to nothingness… You saw what she did to that merc on Illium. I had to see her do that to her own daughter who looked just like her, and her last words as Morinth died were only, 'Find peace in the embrace of the goddess.' Not, 'I'm sorry.' Or, 'I love you.'"

"Perhaps she grieves in her own way."

"You're making excuses for _that_? Samara claimed to be filled with regret, but after that… I don't think I can believe it."

"It cannot be easy, even for a woman who hunted for centuries. If Kolyat hadn't survived…"

She squeezed his hand.

"Human parents must be different. I've read some crazy stories about parents hiding their murdering children from the authorities. Even the most law-minded parents won't do much more than let the cops chase their kids down. I guess I just don't get the asari."

"The perspective of centuries of experience must alter one's actions and one's reactions. Is there a species that understands such beings? Even the krogan do not."

"And that makes what she said ok? I really don't know if I did the right thing helping her. I shouldn't have been in the middle of that fight at all. They should have just ripped each other to pieces, and to hell with having either of them on the team!"

"I know you truly don't mean that, Siha."

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't know myself. Samara killed an entire _town_ while she was hunting Morinth. A town. Gone. And Morinth still escaped. No cop would do that. The hunt just escalated the galaxy's death toll. Was it really worth that?"

"I do not know."

"Yeah, me either. If I'd known that up front, I'd have booted Samara off the ship and let her seek out Morinth on her lonesome."

"And leave her to exterminate more towns?"

She grinned, and he thanked the gods she'd heard the trace of humor in his voice.

"Is this why you waited so long to aid Samara?"

"Well, I didn't know about the town-killing until a few minutes ago… But, yeah. I think so."

"I sense there are other reasons."

"Well, a few. But you wouldn't like them. And if we'd been faster, Diana's daughter would probably still be alive."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Let's see—I had a chance to save a son, a chance to rescue a sister, and, hell, give Garrus some well-deserved peace. All of those are a little more palatable than helping someone kill her daughter."

"Save a son… Is there a reason you rushed so quickly to Kolyat's aid?"

"You really can't guess?"

"Siha, an innocent likely died on my behalf."

"I told you that you wouldn't like the reason. But I'll take saving anyone's son any day over helping a mother kill her kid."

"Is this reason the same that has kept you from aiding Taylor?"

"Remember, I never said _anything_." A wink. "Aiea's far away. A fuel tank's distance, and credits are pretty low. Besides, it's been _ten years_—what's a few more days?"

"I almost feel sorry for Taylor, Siha. What is it about Samara that bothers you?"

"She claims to regret killing her daughter. She claims to have been proud of Morinth's precociousness, even though she killed her for it. She trained for a long time, in one of the most brutal ways possible, to _personally_ kill her daughter. She's destroyed countless others—innocents she's sworn to protect—on her quest to kill her own kid. If she'd just left Morinth alone, wouldn't the cumulative death total been lower?"

"We risk all to destroy the Collectors, Siha. The greater goal is the one that matters."

"Is it? The Collectors are trying to destroy an entire species, and the Reapers are trying to end all organic life. Morinth's killings weren't even _close_ to that level of destruction, and the collateral damage would have been lower if she'd just been left alone."

"But you do not regret Sidonis' death."

"I don't really regret Morinth's either. It's not like the galaxy has lost another Picasso or _Hobbes_ or something. But, still…"

He waited, and the silence stretched out until it filled Life Support in a choking blanket. He knew she would speak of what truly bothered her soon.

"How do you kill your child with the same brutality you'd use with a _stranger_? How do you let her die without trying to reassure her, or without at least telling her you love her? Because I know she does, somewhere deep down. Didn't she owe Morinth that?"

"I… I do not know. I could never have killed Kolyat, even if he'd held the entire Citadel hostage."

"That's what I mean. Not very many human parents could either. And I know most asari aren't much different. Liara was with me when Wrex and I took down Matriarch Benezia and she died telling Liara how proud she was of her. What are we dealing with when we deal with her?"

"She regrets much, that much is clear from what little I've spoken to her. She blames herself for much that is not truly of her own doing. She has sacrificed centuries of her life in atonement for things not of her own doing, but of her very being. I cannot agree with the way she has carried herself, nor can I blame her for it. I understand the need for atonement perhaps too well."

"Yeah, I know. Maybe I'm just nitpicking. Samara's part of the crew, and she's probably more trustworthy than Cerberus' people. No one would blame her for what she considers her responsibility. I don't. But, God, Morinth had such a shitty death. Say what you will about Sidonis, Garrus at least killed him quickly and without much fuss."

"Perhaps it is better that I wasn't there."

"You have distance, querido. I have none after being a part of it."

"I'm sorry, Siha. I have no comfort to offer you or advice to aid you."

"You already have. At least I know why it's bugging me so much."

"You seem much more your normal color now. You should not match my shade; that color doesn't seem to be healthy for humans."

He seldom heard her rich laugh, but when he did, it warmed him far more than the hottest sun.

"Thanks for everything."

"You've saved my soul, Siha. You've made me Whole once more, and you saved Kolyat. An ear is the least I can give you."

She seemed to have no words for that, but the soft caress of her second finger against his thumb and her smile said, _You don't have to thank me for anything._ But he did.


	11. Deserts

She'd plopped the PDA in front of him with little ceremony after she'd unnecessarily asked him for his time, as seemed to be her endearing habit.

"What is this, Siha?"

"Take a look. It's been so damned _serious_ lately, and I thought… well, look and see."

"You claim humans have terrible memories, and yet, you remembered my words?"

"Well, yeah. My memory's a huge hunk of swiss cheese, but sometimes I actually remember what's _really_ important."

"A vacation is not on the same scale of importance as the Reapers."

"Damn that memory of yours! Sometimes it's good to forget the big, huge, evil threat that's hanging over our heads for a few minutes. Besides, I want a damned good vacation to look back on when my life flashes before my eyes as Harbinger, or Emperor, or Panopticon, or Generic Reaper B tries to take me out next."

"'Generic Reaper B?'"

"I'm not feeling very creative today. Sorry."

She scooted her chair over to his side of the table. Perhaps she would stay there, and he could finally call it _their_ side.

"I had no idea Earth had so many deserts."

"Neither did I. I'm not really an expert on deserts, so I got a little help from EDI."

"Jungles, seas, forests and deserts, and almost-deserts. Savannah. Earth is far more diverse than I had imagined. Perhaps this has some play into Mordin's assertion that your people are the most genetically varied in the galaxy."

"I guess so. I never really thought about it much."

"Which desert do you recommend, Siha?"

"No idea. What you're looking at is just as foreign to me as it is to you. From the pictures, I can tell you that the North American deserts seem to have the most wildlife, while the North African deserts seem to have the most history."

"You have never visited any of them?"

"I've never been to Earth."

"Never? Is this common with humans? One might think with a living, thriving home planet, that every human might visit it at least once. Pilgrimages to Rakhana, despite its death, are quite common among surviving drell."

"I have no idea. We have a lot of colonists, but nowhere near as many as still live on Earth. Millions live on Luna. Others grow up in space. But me, I'm a colony kid."

"It surprises me that your Alliance never sent you to Earth for ceremonies or training."

She smiled. "I trained on Arcturus Station, where the Alliance has its headquarters. But Mindoir was my real home. I spent a couple of years on Elysium after the batarians destroyed my home before I joined the Alliance. And since then, I've been in space."

"This is a desert?" Endless plants, succulents, perhaps. Much brush, small flowers. Many birds.

"Mm. Apparently. And apparently there's more than one kind of desert. You're looking at the desert around Phoenix. It's supposed to be hot there, which I think you'll like, and look at the photos! I always pictured deserts as being really boring and full of nothing but sand. It's almost like a garden, isn't it? They say if you drive a few minutes north in a skycar, you'll hit blizzards in late spring. And it's still desert there too, up around Flagstaff."

"There is a town on Earth named after the stick a banner is placed upon?"

"Remember, a human came up with the brilliant name, 'Generic Reaper B.' I never guessed that it could snow in a desert, but it figures Earth would have a place where the impossible could happen."

"This… This is what I imagine when I think of what a desert might be."

"Arches Park in Utah region. There's just as much plant life there as there was in that first desert we looked at. Wait, you've never seen a desert? I think I know what we have to do now."

"What is that, Siha?"

"It's not that hard to visit more than one desert. Or, well, most of them. Shouldn't take much more than a couple of weeks, or maybe longer... Hopefully, longer."

"Why not all of the deserts, if you are thinking of spending so much time away?"

"I looked at some of EDI's suggestions, and several of them look damned awful. Like the deserts around Bakersfield—it's a huge horrible urban blight that stretches over the mountains into Los Angeles."

"There is more than one town on Earth named in galactic?"

"No. I just translated it. The real town name is Bay-kers-feeld." His translator changed the meaning to "Field of Bakers."

"And on Earth, bakers cook in fields?"

She burst out laughing so suddenly he nearly dropped the PDA.

"You know how I was telling you humans can't name anything properly? There was probably a guy named Baker who stole the land from some indigenous tribe and decided to farm there. 'Baker's Field.'"

"Humans seem to have a certain flair for efficiency."

"Exactly. 'Earth,' is a word in the English language that pretty much means, 'dirt.' Or 'ground beneath your feet.' Luckily, we've never told anyone what it means, so it just sounds exotic. We only recently started calling Earth's moon, 'Luna' to satisfy people who spoke different languages. In English, it's 'thuh Moon.' In French, 'lah lune,' and Spanish, 'lah loon-a.' Plus, it doesn't translate well in galactic, so we don't sound like bumpkins. And then there's 'Sol,' or 'thuh sun,' 'lehr solay,' or 'el sol.' Our home cluster is the 'Loh-cal Clus-terr.' We're not like the turians, who have a cool home planet name like 'Palaven' or the asari with 'Thessia,' or the drell with 'Rakhana.'"

"Siha, 'Rakhana' just means 'home.' I'd suspect something similar of the turians and asari."

"Thank God."

"So what is Flagstaff in the human tongues?"

"Flaag-staahf. It's an English word."

"You laugh at your own people so easily, Siha. I cannot imagine these Cerberus operatives doing the same."

"You know, it's funny: there's so much I used to just accept about being human, but now that I've seen a little from your perspective, it's hard not to laugh."

"And the people who named their moon, 'the moon' in a number of languages have some of the most sophisticated technology in the galaxy and one of the most powerful militaries?"

"Hard to believe, isn't it? 'Course, you probably have more time to experiment and develop technology when you're not stuck trying to come up with catchy names for things."

"What about this desert? The 'Sahara.' And these monuments of your ancestors?"

"Giza? I've always wanted to see the Great Sphinx."

"My translator failed, Siha. A 'sphinx?'"

"A mostly-cat, part-human from ancient mythology."

"So, humans cannot name towns, but you can create mythical creatures with strange names?"

She almost toppled the table with the force of her laugh.

"Pretty much. You've just gotten the very essence of humanity in a nutshell. Wait until I tell you about Quetzalcoatl…"

"Ket-zal-quat-al?"

"You probably won't believe that one. The Plumed Serpent is a pretty common shared mythical figure among the ancient meso-Americans."

"Snakes have feathers on Earth?"

"Nope. Well, not as far as I know, anyway."

"Siha…"

"Hm?"

"Your people are deeply confusing."

"And we're even more confusing to ourselves."

"I don't understand."

"Well, just tell me what deserts you want to see, and the people you meet there might clear things up a bit."

"I had no idea my memories of you would be quite so interesting."

"That isn't a good thing?"

"I can't think of anything better, my warrior-angel."


	12. Toxic Rhythms

The beat pulsed around him like the galaxy's largest heart. It was easy to forget the needs of the mind in such a place, and surrender to the urges of the body. Such places made the hunt simpler, and learning the habits of the target easier. He seldom indulged in such places when business did not require it, though he had spent an evening or two swimming in the rhythmic waves as he watched other sapients lose themselves in their bodies, and had enjoyed a solitary spin or two on the dance floor. Afterlife's smoke and pulsing reddish light made the beat seem even more otherworldly, or close and comforting as the womb. Perhaps both, in some strange, conflicted Whole. Humans usually appreciated such places from his own observations, but when she entered, she flinched and one hand flew up to her ear, while the other rested on the pistol she kept holstered at her side. He'd hoped for a moment or two to indulge in the needs of the body with her where he didn't fear offending some unknown human mating customs, but her gesture told him that was but a vain wish.

"Siha?"

"God, this place is awful!"

He could barely hear her over the pulsing, and the simplistic harmony that clung tight to the beat.

"We are here only to speak to Aria?"

"Yeah. She might have some work, and creds are tight. But, damn! Why the hell does she have to set up shop here?"

"This is the very heart of Omega, Siha, where the blood of victims and innocents and thugs is channeled to feed its pulsing."

"Poetry? Here?" She cringed as they approached the inner door, but still tossed him a strained smile.

"Poetry is found everywhere if you but look."

The relentless music drowned out her laugh. She waved away a cloud of tobacco smoke as they made their way to Aria's loft.

"You know what gets me?"

"What, Siha?"

"Of all the things humans have produced, art, literature, music, food, what's the one thing that's caught on and spread _everywhere_? Fucking smoking. The worst damned habit humans ever developed."

"I have never enjoyed it myself." An understatement, and she snickered, from the set of her mouth. The air had not thickened quite enough to make his lungs scream in agony, but it was far from pleasant.

"The Illusive Man's always smoking at me whenever I talk to the damned bastard. Makes me want to whack him. Too bad he's not _actually_ there with me, because he'd have swallowed a few of them by now. Hey, this smoke isn't hurting you, is it?"

"You needn't worry, Siha. I would tell you if I were in any pain."

"Promise?"

"You worry far too much."

"Well, yeah." She smiled and surrounded his hand with the warmth of hers.

And yet, he hated to admit to himself that he almost _enjoyed_ her worrying, the subtle pampering that seemed to be the hallmark of a woman's caring across species. He steered her away from the loft and toward the doorway to the darker, lower thrumming heart of the club, where the crowding pushed bodies close together. _Hers_. Below, where the alcohol flowed like the waves of Kahje, where the music drove Omega's blood through its heart, and where his own slammed at the thought of holding her close.

"Do you feel it, Siha?"

"What?"

"The flow of life about us, moving in time to the beat that surrounds us, and sweeps us away…"

"You mean my headache?"

"Come. Dance with me."

"You're serious."

She shrugged and followed as he wove them through the crowds and through the door to the insulated corridor that led to Lower Afterlife.

"You're going to regret this."

"Why do you say that?"

She grinned as he slipped an arm about her waist between the shotgun she never used and her array of heavier weapons. She leaned into it with far more ease than he'd anticipated, personal armory, hardsuit and all.

"Miranda and Jacob haven't told you about my first early attempts to 'relax?' I'd hoped Cerberus had upgraded my rhythm, but…"

"I do not maintain contact with either Operative, Siha. Especially not Taylor."

She snorted. "Crap, so my secret _was_ safe… You really want to do this?"

If he hadn't lowered his lips to her earflap, perhaps she might have fought rather than having her cheeks deepen to shadow.

"Sh, Siha. Just let the beat of the music allow the body to take over."

"Well, when you put it that way…"

She flinched when they entered the tight, pulsing room and when she stared at him, he sensed she wished to run. What seemed to haunt her eyes, much as he could make them out in the gloom, was not the desire or the softness he'd been hoping to see, but pure terror, especially when she eyed an asari dancing amidst the crowd.

"I need a drink. Want one?" She made a beeline for the salarian bartender.

"Siha…"

She slammed the first shot down without flinching and motioned for a second as he caught up to her.

"Is something the matter, Siha?"

"Nothing a couple of shots can't fix. Or ten."

She drank the next as he motioned for one of his own, just to put her at ease. _It is but a dance floor, Siha._

"Right, let's get this over with."

"I would hope that dancing with me is not a terrible burden or something you would wish to 'get over with.'"

"It's not… I just…" She motioned for a third shot. "_Strong_ this time!"

"Siha…"

When that went down, she burned a deep burgundy on her forehead and her cheeks flushed dark against her already shadowed hair.

"_Dios mio_."

But she clutched him by the hand and followed him, head cast down to an empty spot near the asari.

"Ohgodohgod not here…"

She turned him so that both he and her weapons looked upon the asari. He smiled and relaxed into the beat. She fixed her gaze firmly on him and nothing else, and then moved side to side perhaps like a husk. He could find no other words to describe the odd snapping she did as her head lolled back and forth and her lips seemed to form numbers that didn't match the beat of the music. _One. Two. One. Two._ She moved just off the music's meter, no matter how hard she screwed up her lips and eyebrows in concentration. Her arms she kept immobile at her sides, as if she couldn't manage to move them in tandem with her shuffling feet.

"Siha, are you well?"

"I'm _dancing_!"

He moved in close, almost close enough to feel her body's heat through her hardsuit.

"Is that what you call it? You seem to be in pain."

"Nah, no pain. Shots took care of _that_!" She grinned suddenly and giggled. "Feelin' tha' music!"

He took her hand and tried to guide her away, but fast as the Cerberus upgrades had made her metabolism, the third shot hit her hard, and far faster than it would an unaltered human.

"Not done _dancing_. Watch this!"

She flailed around, her hands flapping as if she were trying to make her way through the final sea, but without Kalahira to guide her. She spun around, suddenly almost matching the music's pulse, her arms over her head, rotating in opposition. He thought she'd knock the suddenly curious asari over as she lowered them and turned with them extended like a rotor.

"So that's _your_ girlfriend," the asari said. "You should dump her and try a _real_ woman."

"Siha, perhaps we should go."

"You tryin' to take my _querido_? Ge' the hell 'way from im! Bad 'nuff ya couldn' help me ge' tha Arda.. Ardat Yak… Ardat Yakshi!"

"She's obviously drunk."

"Yah? An' you ugly!"

"But at least _I_ can dance."

"The moment you can fire an assault weapon with the precision of a sniper rifle is the moment you can criticize Commander Shepard's dancing. Now, if you will excuse us."

"So that's why she's got an entire armory strapped to her back." The asari shook her head and sashayed off.

She staggered and fell against him, and only began to regain her senses after he'd manhandled her out into the alleyway behind the club.

"Oh… damn… Did I do that? Did I really… Ohgod." She buried her head against his chest. "I'm so… sorry…"

Her forehead seared him, and he relished the tickle of her hair against his bare skin.

"Siha, are you well?"

"I don't think I'll be _well_ ever again! That last shot… was ryncol. I could taste it. Just like on the Citadel. Ohgod. Ohgod."

"Is dancing so terrible? Yours is, but is the act itself so dreadful that you must poison yourself to get through it?"

"Not… usually…"

"And the asari. You knew her?"

"_Dios mio_. Wish I didn't. I had to lure out Morinth, and I thought maybe I could try to 'loosen up' a little. You know… So I did that last thing… The thing where I try to feel the music. She shot me down. Hard. Ugh. How the hell do you lure out a woman when you don't, you know, swing that way? But it's worse now. Ohgod."

"My poor Siha. I regret asking you to dance. For you it seems almost as toxic as humidity is to me."

"I told you!"

She hesitated as she raised her head and closed her eyes instead of meeting his.

"You have tasted ryncol and lived to speak of it?"

"Ohgod… The Citadel… Y'know, when it comes to all the bad memories, they stick around."

"I suppose I must ask if I am to hear the story."

"Fine… Can't get much more humiliating… I was about two weeks out from death, and I still looked like some kind of mutant cyborg thing from bad old Earth sci-fi vids. I could have lived with the scars, I guess, but I was so far away from healing that they _glowed_. I was stuck with Cerberus, with just Miranda and Jacob for company. Anderson wanted to see me, but I wasn't quite ready. So I got damned drunk, and woke up on the floor of the Dark Star's bathroom staring at a pissing turian. And a really pissed off Miranda. Jacob just snickered. Ryncol tastes like ass, by the way."

She shot him a wounded look as he burst out laughing.

"Why do you dislike this place so much?"

"The music… It's _wrong_. It's cold. It feels like it's made by a bunch of geth. It has no _soul_, no feeling."

"It is meant to help you lose the chains of the mind, and to let the body roam free. Such things do not require feeling or soul. I find it almost like meditating: soothing and freeing."

"Music is supposed to be _expression_. There's none of that here. How the hell do you dance to _nothing_ when you can feel nothing from it?"

"The expression is in one's own body, and its desires. I had hoped to share a little with you."

"Oh…. I… I'm sorry I messed it up."

"I am the one who caused you injury…"

"Don't even think about saying that!" She clutched at his hand and brought it to her lips. _Soft_ lips. _Warm_ lips.

"Perhaps I can make dancing a little less painful for you."

She stared at him, and he noticed the fuzziness had left her expression.

"The cargo hold seems to be devoid of Cerberus personnel, and I would very much enjoy teaching you…"

"You'll regret it."

"Perhaps, but I think it is a regret I can live with."


	13. Fuck you!

_I really hate your ass right now. – Cee Lo Green_

With endless apologies to those who appreciate Jacob Taylor.

They had finished their business on Aeia a week before, and he'd thought the fallout was over. Taylor seemed more or less content from what little he'd seen of the man (thank Arashu, it was but little!), but _she_ vibrated like out-of-tune momentum dampeners.

"Not again!"

She burst into Life Support and as he turned to greet her, he noted the crease in her brows, the half-wild state of her usually well-finished hair, and the tension at the corners of her lips.

"Dammit, querido, what the hell is wrong with that man?"

"What did Taylor do this time?"

"He spent the entire weekly briefing scowling at Miranda. She'd say something and he'd argue with it just for the hell of it. You think she's cold? She was shooting white-hot sparks all over the briefing room. Garrus came this time, and even he was shaking his head. 'Jacob, something wrong?' he asked, and the asshole just said, 'Everything's fine.'"

"Perhaps the man just needs to be left alone."

"That's just it—everyone _was_ leaving him alone! No one said a goddamn word to him. Why the hell did Cerberus saddle me with him? You'd think he'd be a little _happy_ with his closure or totally pissed at his dad, but nope. You ask him what the hell is wrong, and he clams up. Before he launches an attack, that is. 'You're obsessing more about my problems than I am, _Shepard_. Maybe you're my problem.'"

"You take this much too seriously, Siha."

"He's wreaking havoc with the ship! You can't command like this, not when you can't have a goddamned briefing about resources without a nuclear war erupting. Fuck him. Up the ass with a cryo-frozen crowbar. Motherfucker called you a 'snake' again, by the way. I swear, I'm going to deck him soon."

"Why, Siha? I thought he was past such stupidity."

"Because I told him to, 'Settle down. Maintain the objective.'"

"I do not understand."

"I know—what the hell's so offensive about that?"

"I meant that I did not understand the phrase. Is this human military jargon?"

"Not really. I was hoping he'd 'maintain the objective' of getting through the meeting. Eventually. You know, before the Reaper armageddon happens. Maybe we should just suspend all briefings until the mission's over, because I can't take much more of this."

"Human communication can be rather confusing."

He remembered his first conversation with her aboard the Normandy in the mess. She spoke, as most humans did, in casual, deceptively informal language that seemed to belie their quick, agile minds.

She snorted, and caught his meaning readily enough. "We're not so good at talking to each other, either. 'Strong talk from a woman who fondles a snake!' Fucker. I have him watching a sensitivity vid right now, but he's probably inured to it from his time in the Alliance."

"You truly meant that threat?" Almost against his training, he lost the last of his breath laughing.

"You thought I was kidding? That thing's about three hours. I might add 'Cultural History of Council Races' just for the hell of it, even if it's way out of date, and to keep him out of Miranda's hair for a day. Poor thing."

"Did the man trouble Operative Lawson? I have trouble finding any compassion for her."

"He called her 'frigid.' In the middle of the briefing. With Garrus watching. And Garrus enjoyed it a bit too much—I'm half-tempted to have him watch an Alliance vid on 'Gender Relations Protocol,' not that it even remotely applies to him, or this ship, or, hell…"

"You seem to enjoy torturing people a little too much, Siha."

"Maybe."

"Please sit—you send out waves of disquiet that seem most disconcerting."

She did, though her trembling shook the table.

"Even Chambers thinks there's something wrong with him. I mean, I get it. It's pretty damned hard to know your own father turned into some petty dictator and is probably going to end up in jail. But this is ridiculous!"

"I trust Yeoman Chambers to make an accurate diagnosis of a human's mental state as much as I trust Tayor to repair the _Normandy_'s drive core."

"Ha ha." But she followed that with a real laugh.

"Maybe Taylor should be left to mope alone."

"If we weren't trying to run a ship, maybe. But the Illusive Man shoved him somewhere indeterminate in the command structure, so I'm stuck. He's not coming to the next briefing, though."

"Are you not in command of the _Normandy_, Siha?"

"I haven't really tested the full implications of command yet. Maybe I can have him help Gardner with the plumbing for a few days. Just as well—most of his tactical recommendations are utter crap."

"So long as you do not assign him to this deck, I might think it a valuable lesson."

"Fuck."

"Is what you see with Taylor that human phenomenon I've read of called, 'displacement?'"

"Sounds familiar, from the old Psych classes at the Academy. I was better at hacking."

He'd never seen anyone quite so adept at breaking into security systems and secure safes. She had once told him that were it not for hacking, the _Normandy_ and all the crew's weapons would be significantly less powerful. _Cerberus really isn't funding squat. But it's good to have a ship, anyway._

"Reminds me of the stories I heard of my dad's cousin, Bill. Bill was an ornery guy from what Dad said, and _anything_ and _anyone _ could piss him off if he was in one of his moods. His parents took him in to shrink after shrink to see what the hell was wrong with him. The last one just sat in the room with him for hours and swallowed shot after shot of some unknown liquid until Bill just flipped out. 'You look just like that man who touched me. Get the hell away from me!' After that, they got him help, and eventually locked his molester up. But before that, he was just like Jacob."

"Do you think his father did something like that to him?"

"No, but he's just as fucking repressed, and it's going to tear this ship apart. And he _won't_ talk about it. Just tells me there's no problem. I hope he gets over it eventually, but I can't do anything about it. Maybe Miranda will shove him out the airlock before that happens. Or I will."

_Commander, Operative Taylor would like to speak with you_. Chambers' voice made him shudder as it came over the comm.

"Son of a bitch! Guess the vid must be over."

"Good luck, Siha. I think you will need it."

"I don't get the galaxy."

"Why not?"

"I mean, we've got a mentally unstable biotic who has been conditioned to kill, a genetically-engineered krogan designed as a killing machine, a salarian who committed an almost-genocide, and, hell, outright verbal warfare between Tali and any Cerberus crewman who says anything half-wrong, but who causes me the most fits? The so-called 'normal one' who Chambers once called 'perfectly stable.'"

"Siha, you truly listen to _Yeoman Chambers_?"

"Yeah… Maybe that's the problem. Fuck."

"If you do not make it back alive, my Siha, I will make sure to pray to Kalahira for your soul's guidance."

"Greeeeat. Thanks a lot."

Inspired by this comment: .com/r/gaming/comments/ed45r/have_you_ever_had_a_deep_personal_hatred_for_an/c1781ut

"Hey, I think I found my dad. You need to help me find him so I can just be all 'fuck you dad'."


	14. Wheels

"Personal connection."

She shook her head. And then she gave him a wry smile.

"I'm sorry, Siha. I do not follow."

"Just wondering why I got so pissed off at Mordin when I did something worse than he did."

"Do you speak of the rachni?"

She nodded. "I'm a damned hypocrite, aren't I? At least he just _curtailed_ the krogan population. I completely destroyed the rachni."

"I don't see you just casually committing genocide, Siha."

"Yeah, well, I'm a little different now than I was then. Then I was riding high off a victory against Benezia, and had a re-animated asari talking to me. Creepy as hell. And then there was Wrex, whose people gave their lives to destroy the rachni, telling me to destroy it. Funny, all suffering still comes from the same source, doesn't it?"

"In cycles and circles. The Wheel of Fire mills whatever souls it can. Entropy spreads."

"Wheels. Hunh."

"You speak of Mordin's wheel of life, of reincarnation."

"And Samsara… Funny, the concept seems more like your Wheel of Fire."

"That is the Hindu wheel he spoke of?"

"Yeah. Except you don't want to be stuck in the cycle of reincarnation. Samsara isn't just the Wheel of Life, it's the Wheel of Suffering, and your goal is to finally escape it into enlightenment and peace. You want to _break_ the cycle, not perpetuate it."

"Is that why you destroyed the rachni, to escape this cycle?"

"Maybe. Nah, not really. The rachni tried to destroy civilization. The salarians and the turians used the krogran to destroy them. If they rose again, what new race would be used like a weapon? Humans? And how would we suffer for it? Better to destroy it forever than live that again."

"A cycle you broke."

"But the krogan still suffer for it. Their own hellish Samsara created by the former Council races. Huh."

"And the cost may well have been too high. Siha, had I been in your shoes, I cannot even begin to imagine the decision I'd make. To kill a species… And yet, the cost of allowing the rachni to be reborn again could be the galaxy."

"Yeah, I was thinking pure survival then. The damned rachni queen could telepathically control the dead! The soldiers… Shit, just one of them nearly killed Liara and wounded Wrex. Looking back… Hell, I don't know what I'd do now. Probably the same thing."

"The galaxy's Siha as well." He stroked the back of her hand. "Have you ever wondered why so many species hold wheels so sacred?"

"Orbits? Seasons? Ancient humans used to worship Sol, and many gods associated with nature. Sol was symbolized as a wheel with various forms of crosses in the middle, dividing it into four parts, one for each season. Life was seen as a progression along a circle. You know, youth, maturity, old age… death."

"Perhaps. But perhaps it is also the gods whispering to us, hinting to us that all galactic life rises and falls in cycles. The Reaper extinctions serve as a cycle, do they not? Life rises, evolves, matures, and then is slain over and over by the same forces that shape us. The gods must want us to see the cycle for what it is: the Wheel of Fire come to harvest us, so that we can halt it in its path."

"You're much deeper than I am."

"I know you see this, Siha, much as you see the krogan's own cycle of self-destruction, forging their world over and over atop ruins. It is not so different from galactic life, the way life arises atop the ashes of civilizations the Reapers have destroyed."

"I guess we just have to break it. Just like Mordin tried to break the krogan."

"What made you so angry with him, Siha?"

"You saw Tuchanka. You met Wrex."

"He seemed happy to see you."

"Yeah. I'm proud of him. He was a clan leader once, and he had vision. It's good to see he reclaimed some of it."

"As I meet some of your old non-human team members, I find it harder and harder to imagine you as you claim you were."

"Wrex is a good friend."

"More than that, Siha. I see how he respects you and you respect him. I sense your fire in him, driving him. Something happened to him to move him, did it not?"

"Virmire. Saren came up with a cure for the genophage, and he used it to manipulate his cloned krogan. Wrex…"

"He wanted the cure."

"Yeah. His vision was to get krogan numbers up, for them to breed for a generation and quit fighting. His own father betrayed him and tried to kill him for that talk. He went merc after that, not that I blame him. I think Virmire changed him somehow. I owe him everything for backing me up."

"You broke his cycle, that he might be the instrument to break the krogan Wheel."

"I hope so. I see what the krogan suffering did to Mordin…"

"You and Mordin are not so different, Siha. You both worked to preserve the galaxy in your own ways, no matter what it might cost your hearts and your souls."

"I know. Looking in the mirror's hard sometimes, especially when you see how your actions hurt others. He's a good man, querido."

"I believe so also, no matter how 'unorthodox' his methods might be. He seems rather pleased with the progress your friend Wrex is making."

"So am I."

"We will destroy the Wheel, Siha. If the smaller cycles can be interrupted and destroyed, the gods will grant us grace to destroy the larger."

She clutched at his hand as she clenched her eyes shut. "I… I hope so."


	15. Girl Talk

He paused just outside the mess' first wall when he heard her voice intermingle with two others, one that seemed unfamiliar.

"Wait, Tali, you like humans?" Ah, Goto.

"Not _these_ humans. There's too much _Cerberus_ here for my taste."

"Not even Donnelly? He's not bad looking. And he's not really Cerberus either—he used to be Alliance until the Council decided to downplay the Reaper threat." Ellen found the engineer attractive? "Plus, he's got an adorable accent. Kind of like my dad's."

"Fraternizing with a subordinate, Shepard?"

"Hey, this isn't the old _Normandy_. Apparently Cerberus regs aren't a problem."

"But Ken belongs with Gabby!" The thief seemed almost disappointed.

"Unh hunh. If they were going to hook up, they'd have done it by now."

"I still think you should go for Kal'Reegar once you go back to the flotilla. Shep thinks he has it bad for you."

"Kal's a good friend, but he's not my type."

"Or Garrus. He's got a major thing for you."

"Shepard!"

"What? He's a good man. Loyal, caring, funny, and smart as hell. And his voice is…"

"Sexy?" The thief giggled. "I guess that explains Thane. You like _vibrations_."

"Um, maybe I should go."

"You're not getting out of this so easy, Shep. That gorgeous Jacob's got eyes for _you_. But you picked the green man."

"Gorgeous? Jacob? I wouldn't put those two words together."

"Oh, I would."

"Why? He's got a good body and he's easy on the eyes, but damn, the second he opens his mouth…" And she found _Taylor_ attractive?

"He shows how _perfect_ he is."

"Riiiight."

"And he's _Cerberus_. He tries to make nice, but it doesn't work."

"Jacob is _not_ a terrorist!"

"No, he's just dumber than a box of rocks." At least Ellen seemed to recognize that.

"You could have had perfection, Shep, but you picked the smooth assassin instead."

"Do me a favor, Kasumi? Get the guy into bed. You'll be performing a public service. I've never seen _anyone_ who needed a good lay more."

"Ha! I wish… So, why Thane? I mean, he moves well, but…"

"You really want to know, hunh?"

"I'm curious myself, Shepard. I mean, there's his voice…"

"…that I could listen to all day… He could make the tech specs to the drive core sound like poetry."

"So that's why you listen to all his boring philosophical crap."

"Boring? Not at all. I _like_ men with brains. Wait, how the hell do you know that?"

"How do I find out anything?"

"You spied on us? Damn. You're probably not even here right now."

"That cloak is rather annoying, Shepard."

"I wouldn't miss _this_ conversation for the world."

"What the hell did you overhear?"

"Not much. Just you two talking about 'wheels' or some other metaphysical crap. Metaphysics is mega-boring! I haven't spied on you since."

"Good. Make sure it stays that way."

"Those eyes creep me out. Big, black, with only the lids to show any emotion."

"Really? I think he has the most beautiful, expressive eyes I've ever seen on any man. You never noticed the deep green in them? I could stare into them until I died if it wasn't for the whole commanding a ship thing."

"Shepard, can you believe this woman? She cloaks and spies on everyone on this ship, and then says that Thane's _eyes_ are creepy? Keelah!"

"How else am I supposed to get my information? So what else is it about Thane? I want details, but not _too_ many. Aren't his _scales_…"

"The most sensual thing I've felt in my life? They make me tingle—I swear, holding hands with him is better than some of the sex I've had. Wait, I didn't say that…"

"He has nice lips," Tali'Zorah said, "for such a quiet, strange man."

"You got the 'strange' part right." The thief must have known he was listening—he'd felt a breath on his neck as the others claimed she'd cloaked.

"He is _not_ strange! God, why do I get myself into these conversations?"

"And the lips, Shep?"

"What the hell? Fine. The stripe underneath… Damn! And his smile… I'd walk to the ends of the galaxy to see it."

"It's a very cute stripe. Keelah, what am _I_ saying?"

"He has other stripes, doesn't he, Shep?"

"That's none of your damn business. Besides, I don't know."

"Those neck stripes have to go _somewhere_, don't they?"

"And if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. How the hell have you noticed all his stripes, anyway, if you don't think he's attractive?"

He had no desire to hear an answer from the woman who had to rely on _tech_ to hide herself.

"Your ears must be on fire," the thief said as he rounded the corner.

He'd never seen such a strange array of expressions on his Siha's face. Her cheeks turned to shadow, while she simultaneously looked up straight into his eyes and down at the table; smiling and frowning as if she were both thrilled to see him, and as ashamed as Kolyat had once been when Irikah had caught him sneaking a sweet.

"Querido," she said finally, and the smile won out.

"So tell me, Thane, how long were you listening in on us?" Goto asked.

"Less time than _you_ spent spying, it seems, Ms. Goto."

"Ah, hypocrisy, thy name is Kasumi."

"What, Shep? Girl talk is sacred!"

"Siha, I need you in Life Support."

"Kasumi and Tali were _just leaving_, weren't you?"

"Right, Shepard."

"Party pooper!"

"I thought we might make an evening of reading the drive core's specifications. A _private_ evening, perhaps with a vibration or two."

"Ohgod... Tell me you didn't hear all that…"

"Would I lie to you, my Siha?"

"Crap."

The thief had wandered off somewhere, but he scanned the hallway anyway as he steered Ellen toward Life Support. When the doors opened, he noticed a faint distortion in the play of light over his cot. A human might not have noticed such things, nor would he if he hadn't been looking for traces of cloaking.

"Ms. Goto?"

"_That's_ where you spied on us all this time? Fuck."

"You caught me." The thief shimmered into view.

"Get out! I mean it! If I catch you doing this again, you're confined to quarters for the rest of the mission. And I'll fucking destroy your omni-tool myself."

"We should do this again soon, Shep. There's nothing like a little girl talk."

"Get _out_!"

"Going…"

"And not dark either! Son of a bitch."

She slumped in her chair and stared down at the table as the thief left. He locked the door behind her. Tight.

"You really heard _all_ of it, didn't you?"

"From the moment you claimed Engineer Donnelly was attractive."

"I said 'not bad.'"

"And Taylor was 'easy on the eyes.' Taylor, Siha?"

"Well, by human standards, yeah, he's not bad looking."

"And these are the things that females of other species discuss?"

"Wait, you're telling me Irikah never had girls' nights out? Or female friends she'd gossip with?"

"Drell do not appear to be as gregarious as humans or quarians."

"She never had a good heart-to-heart with other women about you? Really? Did you live in some kind of monastery or isolated pod or something?"

"I would rather hear more about why you consider Taylor attractive."

"I don't. In fact, I hope Kasumi lands him. She'll be spying a lot less."

"You noticed his body."

"You'd have to be blind not to. The guy's built like a wall." She looked away, a hint of the shadow returning to her cheeks.

"Siha, I sense there is something you're not telling me."

"Fine. I thought he seemed like a nice guy, and I pulled a little charm on him to see if I could break past his suspicion just to see what he was like when we first got aboard this _Normandy_. And then I regretted it the second he started talking. He took it as flirting. And he sulked at me when I set him straight."

"And that is why Taylor is so suspicious of me?"

"Right, because I had my eye on you the second I met you in the Dantius Towers. You're nuts, you know that?"

"You did not?"

"Well, um. Not that Jacob was aware of, anyway. You make quite the first impression… What's with you and the whole Jacob thing anyway? You'd think you'd focus on, well, everything _else_ I said. You know, that you're brilliant, fascinating, stunningly amazingly…"

"…lipped to Tali'Zorah?"

"And this is why 'girl talk' exists. Men are so goddamned annoying!"

"Annoying?"

"Damned annoying. Too bad annoying is coupled with adorable and sexy and…"

"And why those two women?"

"You ever try chatting with Miranda? Chambers tries to hit on me. Jack told me to 'stop pissing around.' I tried a little 'talk' with Samara, only to see this weird look on her face that reminded me too much of how Liara once looked at me on the first _Normandy_ when I tried a little 'girl talk' with her."

"I cannot imagine a Justicar engaging in such talk."

"Yeah, well. She wanted to chat, so I was hoping that when I asked her about 'romantic involvement,' she'd tell me her impressions of the guys on the ship. Just for the hell of it. Instead, she told me that my 'curiosity was quite welcome.' And then she gave me this look like I was a piece of meat or something. Girl talk isn't something you can have with asari, apparently."

"Siha, if I didn't know better, I would think you too naïve to survive in the galaxy."

"Thanks a lot."

"How much more of this 'girl talk' will I be party to?"

"You shouldn't have been a party to _any_ of it."

"I merely came to join you for dinner."

"Don't worry, Kasumi's now off the 'girl talk' list. I think I'll just stick with Tali. In Engineering. By the drive core, with the doors closed."

"There are things you wish to keep hidden?"

"You think I can tell you about my objective assessment of Jacob's appearance? You got a little freaked, you know. Or mention that Donnelly isn't bad looking without you flipping out? There's a reason 'girl talk' exists."

"And why is that?"

"Because guys just don't 'get it.'"

"Get what?"

"Exactly."


	16. Rite or Wrong

"I think I fucked up, querido." She grabbed at his hand across the table, ensconced firmly in her chair. She still hadn't made it over to "their" side, even though he'd wished she might for months now.

"How so, Siha? We survived, and our krogan companion has finally found his place in the galaxy."

"I'm worried about Wrex."

"I don't think you should take him at his word. Do you truly see Grunt replacing him in a few centuries?"

"I don't see Grunt doing much but smashing and shooting things. And that's why I'm wondering if I really screwed up."

"The galaxy changes in almost unrecognizable ways in a few decades, let alone a few centuries. Look at your own people, Siha. Only a little over three decades ago, humans were confined to your 'Local Cluster,' and now they run the Council. By the time Grunt becomes a mature krogan, he likely will have changed just as much."

"If they hadn't made such a 'cohk-uhp' of it, I might feel better about it."

"Roosters above?" He knew the translator hadn't quite done its job when her lips twitched.

"Sorry, it just means, 'mess.' The only thing they've done right is to keep Anderson on board."

"The volus have gained territory and representation."

"Ok, two things. Not a great track record."

"I do not understand your concern, Siha."

"Wrex has a vision for his people, and if he can get them working together… I might have screwed up his people's chances forever just trying to keep our assess alive. You know Grunt can't even see beyond his quad, let alone the future."

"Grunt is not yet mature, and when you spoke of first knowing Wrex, he lacked vision as well."

"Not vision. Just the will to implement it."

"Vision means little without will. And yet you seem to have inspired him to take control. You may do something similar with Grunt."

She snorted. "Yeah, right. This is the kid who told me he'd turn on me if we ran out of enemies."

"So, what would the alternative have been to killing the thresher maw?"

"Surviving. For five minutes. In an open area with no cover. Or at least not cover that could stand up to a single jet of the damned thing's spit. You got hit just like I did more than once."

"It was not… pleasant." He remembered the _burning_, the feeling of flesh disintegrating before she'd deployed medigel. His shattered knee had been nowhere near as painful.

"No kidding. We used to have a damned hard time killing those fuckers in the Mako. One hit, and the vehicle's armor would degrade to nothing."

"Then your decision was the correct one. Better to slay such a creature and create a ripple in a single society than to be a corpse on the ritual field. Your species' very existence deserves a small sacrifice."

"Sometimes I wonder…"

"Are you still condemning your people, Siha? Cerberus is not all humans, from what I've seen, and even some of the humans within Cerberus show distinct points of view."

"You remember when we were talking about wheels… I'm wondering if I didn't give the wheel a spin in the wrong direction."

"It's too late to wonder that now. All you can do is to _atone_ if what you did was so wrong."

"Hell if I know."

"Then perhaps it might be best for you to refrain from tormenting yourself. You did as you must to ensure we all lived."

"Don't you think the whole ritual's a little screwy? I mean, no one killed a thresher maw for _centuries_? It was easier to kill the damned thing than to try to survive its spew."

"If one has aid and alien technology. Do krogan often have allies in their rituals?" Her particle beam worked more of a charm against the beast than any warp fields he could cast at it.

She shrugged. "I still don't totally get what a 'krantt' is."

"Nor do I. The krogan baffle me, Siha. They enjoy the kill, revel in it, almost as if they were created by the gods to do so. And yet, they have a wise man, a shaman, one who speaks to their spirits."

"I didn't see any evidence of krogan gods."

"I refer to the spirits of their people, to their very natures. I had not expected such spirituality in their people. In some ways, I find it almost inspiring. The nameless shaman devotes the totality of himself to understanding and experiencing the depths of krogran nature. Not many species still have such devoted religious leadership."

"Maybe. I've read stories about similar rituals among ancient humans, and some of our priests still give things up. But the krogan live with their rituals every day. If I still had anything close to my old faith, I'd probably 'get' them better, but not anymore."

"What do your priests do?"

"They, um, give up… you know."

"Food?"

"Um, no." Her cheeks deepened to shadow.

"Am I to guess, Siha?"

"They, uh, stay _celibate_."

She seemed to roll from her chair's seat like a rill of water when he laughed.

"Do you intend to honor your 'breeding request?'"

She pushed back against the chair's edge as she almost lost her balance. Then she forced a smile that quickly turned wicked. "Was it from you?"

_If I had a 'quad.'_ "Only if you wish it."

"Maybe you need to figure that out."

"You do not?"

"What do you think?" This time it was her turn to laugh.

"I…" His eyelids went mad against his wishes.

"Is there anything that isn't beautiful about you?" He tried to convince himself that he hadn't imagined those words, though her next words and the strengthening in her voice made him question his own ears and his own memory. "I guess I shouldn't worry about Wrex. I'm sure he could take Grunt easily if it ever came to that. And Grunt probably won't fully mature until after I'm dead. Not a lot I'll be able to do about it then."

She squeezed his hands as he smiled and brought one to her lips. Her heat shocked him, and he had his own trouble keeping himself from turning to a puddle beneath the table. His pants suddenly felt far too confining.

"No, perhaps there isn't. And perhaps the death of a thresher maw isn't the galaxy's greatest tragedy."

She grinned. "No, that would be a breeding request that _wasn't_ from you."


	17. Spectre

"Why did you insist on taking all of those readings and recordings, Siha?"

She'd scanned every last surface, had downloaded every last Cerberus recording to her omni-tool and uploaded everything to EDI. Every wall, every bit of flooring, every Cerberus-constructed catwalk she'd scanned and recorded, and she'd required the pilot and EDI to take footage and endless readings of the Reaper's exterior. _A waste of time and resources_, he'd thought then, _when we face indoctrination ourselves._ The Reaper was dead, long since dead, even if it still maintained some form of low-level awareness in its indoctrination. Thirty-seven million years dead.

"I'm sick of no one believing me. The entire Fifth Fleet _saw_ and fought Sovereign, but only Daniels, Donnelly and Hackett believed they fought a Reaper? Cerberus scavenged enough of Sovereign's remnants to help build EDI and this _Normandy_, but C-Sec and the Citadel defense forces couldn't find enough parts to prove Sovereign wasn't geth technology?"

"I believe you."

"You kind of have to. Not that you and I can stop the invasion on our lonesome."

"As does Cerberus."

"I wasn't doing this for Cerberus. Cerberus can't do squat against a full-fledged invasion."

"Your Systems Alliance, then? The quarians appear to believe you."

"And the Council. The turians, the salarians, the asari. Hell, everyone else. The Alliance can't do it on its own."

"The Council has ignored the evidence of its eyes and its reason. Why should a few readings change anything?"

"Well, it's not like they can come take a look at the Reaper now, what with it being nothing more than little bits of matter. All the evidence we had, all the beacons got 'used up' when I triggered them. The Prothean VI on Ilos is dead forever. At least I have _this_. It's something tangible."

"Until you are accused of fakery."

She shrugged. "At least I tried."

"And the geth?"

"I'll reactivate him soon. I just needed, well…"

"You're nervous? The geth saved our lives, Siha. Several times."

"I know. It doesn't help, though."

"And so you came here instead. Your quarters would be far more comfortable for such a chat." In her quarters, he found it far simpler to do more than just hold her hand.

"I was just on my way to pull the trigger. You know, Miranda wanted me to sell the geth to Cerberus. And Jacob wanted me to space it."

"Neither of which seems to answer any questions about why it saved us. Nor does either option allow us to honor it for its actions."

"Exactly. Not that I care about 'honoring' it, though. I haven't had such good luck reanimating things."

"Ah, the krogan."

"Grunt had me choking up against the wall the second I drained his tank. I'm not being that stupid again—I've got a guard, a kinetic barrier at the ready, and EDI's reinforcing all our firewalls."

"If you've taken precautions, why do you worry?"

"Shit, I thought I'd taken precautions against the Illusive Man, but he still screwed us over twice. I'm just shocked he didn't do it this time."

"Even the most untrustworthy of men has a moment of truth-telling. I'm still curious about the readings; you clenched your jaw and ground your teeth as you recorded everything, and I thought I heard you muttering, 'Udina,' under your breath. Your human ambassador?"

She gritted her teeth. "You just had to mention that little rat-bastard, didn't you?"

"You took the readings for your ambassador?"

"Fine. I wanted to rub in his face that I was telling the truth. Hard. And with a cheese grater."

"He believed otherwise?"

"I have two people in the Alliance and on the Council who believe me: Hackett and Anderson. That's it."

"Despite the evidence of their senses."

"Senses, pssht. Who believes in senses?"

"And senses weren't enough for your ambassador?"

"Oh please. You're talking about an honest-to-God born politician who lives and breathes ways to advance himself like the little creepy weasel he is."

"I can't imagine you would have so much outright contempt for someone who was but a 'little creepy weasel.'"

"I was his goddamned meal ticket. He cashed in on the _Normandy_'s findings, on me, and then used them to manipulate his way into the Council's back pocket. All the while, he ignored every fucking thing I said. Actually, he _mocked_ everything I said."

"A Siha's wrath is something to be feared."

"I hope he has a little fear in him. There's a reason Anderson's on the Council and he's not."

He leaned forward and smiled, squeezing her hand. "A story, then."

"Not really. Just that the fucker decided to manipulate me into the Spectres to advance humanity when the Council would have probably shot itself in its three swollen heads to avoid it."

"You didn't wish to become a Spectre?"

"Please. I was damned happy just shooting up batarian pirates and making slavers' lives living hells."

He stared at her as he tried to understand the import of her words. She didn't wish to become a Spectre. She didn't _wish_ to become a Spectre. She didn't _wish_ to _become a_ _Spectre_.

"Why not, Siha? Wasn't it an honor for your species?"

"Then you don't know how it happened, I guess. Funny, I thought there were enough stories out there…"

"How did you become a candidate?"

"What was it Anderson said, 'Spectres aren't made, they're born?' I got railroaded on the old _Normandy_'s shakedown cruise just as we hit the first relay. We had Nihlus on board, and he was 'evaluating' me for candidacy. Had the whole crew in an uproar. I didn't have a lot of choice, since Anderson basically ordered me into it."

"Hm. That must have been a blow for a woman who disliked aliens."

"It was… something. It's weird, though. I _liked_ Nihlus. He wasn't like the typical turian assholes I'd run into. I probably would have enjoyed working with him on subsequent missions if he hadn't gotten himself shot 'moving faster on his own.' Jenkins might have even survived if he'd just stuck with us."

"You don't seem to work as the typical 'lone wolf' Spectre."

"Nope. Always have backup. Always."

"Why is that? Many things are possible with subtlety and one's own wits."

"Do I seem subtle to you?"

"You have your moments."

"I'm military. A soldier. Not an infiltrator or a spy. I don't have biotics to back me up. I've worked with squads my entire career. I don't know what I'd do with myself if I didn't have a team with me."

"Where does your ambassador fit into the story?"

"Weeell, he tried to 'help' with Saren, but pretty much sold me out when it came to the vision the Prothean beacon gave me. On that, he was just as happy to laugh at me as the Council was. And as Saren was when the Council first confronted him."

"You found your evidence, I assume."

"Yeah. And then the Council hemmed and hawed while the turian asshole insulted humanity and said we weren't ready for Spectre-ship. That I wasn't ready to be their toady. Udina pontificated for days on end about how the Council ignored humanity and that I should be granted Spectre status. That was _after_ he lectured me for shooting up Chora's Den, when the entire club tried to empty its clips into me."

"I see why you dislike politicians so much. But if you didn't wish to be a Spectre, why did you fight for it?"

"I wanted one thing—to kick Saren's ass for what he did to Eden Prime. And I needed the tools to do it. Oh, and I wanted to make sure these 'Reapers' didn't kill us. Make that two things."

"You shouldered the burden of preserving galactic life without even thinking about it." Listening to her diminish her finest trait to something as simple as the urge to "kick ass" annoyed him and he furrowed his brows.

"No, I thought about it plenty, and it all came down to kicking Saren's ass."

"Of course, Siha. The galaxy's finest defender only desires to 'kick ass' of all the miscreants she encounters."

"Pretty much."

"Being a Spectre means that little to you?"

"It's a tool, nothing more. I learned a few things, had access to better guns, but that's about it. The galaxy might think it means something, but for me the title's just another way to help me get the job done."

_Remember that she is military, that she sees an objective and must accomplish it._

"Is there nothing that matters?"

"You're turning this into a discussion about metaphysics and values? Of course there is! But running down Saren in the beginning had nothing to do with either, and neither did becoming a Spectre."

He raised his brows. _She'll never admit that the galaxy mattered to her in the past. There is no need to force the admission when every action of hers speaks to her truth more firmly than her words. She doesn't need the mental clarity of purpose that you do; she is what she is by instinct and by her nature._ "If you will, Siha, your story of the ambassador."

"All right." Guarded. "Anyway, I chased the fucker down, tracked him to Ilos, and then I made the mistake of going back to the Council to ask for reinforcements to take him and his geth army out. The Council pretended to be magnanimous enough to believe me, but only reinforced the Citadel. That's it. 'Ilos is in the Terminus. We're not risking war…' Even if fucking Sovereign talked to me himself! Even if Saren confirmed it more than once. Human eyewitness testimony of Saren killing Nihlus didn't convince them of anything—I had to shoot a shit-ton of mercs to get Tali's recording of him and Benezia. So why should this?"

She shrugged. "It's all so obvious looking back, isn't it? I played Council toady and got royally screwed for it. Udina wormed his way into the Council's back pocket and grounded the _Normandy_. 'You're becoming more trouble than you're worth,' he told me in front of the Council as he sold me out. Used me as his fucking meal ticket, and then when it really mattered, shot me down, and, worse, _disabled_ me."

"And so you chose Anderson to take the Council seat for the sake of vengeance?"

"He _earned_ that seat. He risked his life on charges of treason to get us to Ilos. Risked his damned neck, the way he risked his life so many times for the Alliance. He's the best humanity's got, and what happened? He got railroaded by both Saren and Udina. Udina's treachery to Anderson is the reason why I had the _Normandy_ in the first place."

"And not because he was more capable."

"I think he's far more capable. He's the only one who gives a damn about the Reapers, and is doing his damnedest to make everyone see the threat. We don't need diplomacy right now, we need defense."

"You may not value diplomacy, Siha, but most of the galaxy relies upon it."

"I'm not saying… Never mind."

He laughed. "This was supposed to be the story of your troubles with the Ambassador, but I seem to divert you."

"Well, the story's pretty much over, and the Ambassador is still making everyone in the known universe regret knowing him, so…"

"So you have the evidence to convince him of what?"

"Not him, but all the others like him who think the Reapers are a delusion."

"You think you might convince him…"

"Don't know. But I have to try, querido. We're screwed if I can't. The Collectors aren't the last stop, I can almost feel it."

"I've heard stories of your legendary wrath, but you seem strangely subdued in speaking of this Udina. Others would have destroyed him for far less."

"Humanity needs him. He's the scum of the galaxy, but he's done well for our species."

"The lesser evil for the greater good."

"Is that what it is?" She shrugged.

"You should go reactivate the geth, Siha."

She nodded and stood. And then stared at him as he moved to his gun rack and holstered a pistol at his waist.

"I suggested you bring the geth aboard, Siha, and if you face risk speaking to it, I will be the one to expunge my mistake."

"Backup for the Spectre?" She grinned as he gathered her into his arms.

"Always. For so long as this body draws breath."

She did her best to keep him from inhaling as her lips locked with his.

He watched from medbay as she activated the geth. Suspicion on her part, confusion on the geth's. A new perspective on an old war. "…_we will integrate into Normandy_." A handshake with Legion, and a shared sigh of relief as she looked his way.

"Good call, querido," she said after they finished.

If he could be _that_ sort of backup, well, he would gladly be that for her as well.


	18. E Pluribus Unum

"You really think brainwashing and killing were exactly the same ethically?"

She'd curled up next to him on the sectional—once he'd gotten comfortable with the idea that her quarters were just as much a part of his space as Life Support, he hadn't wanted to leave—and she'd rested her chin on her knees in the shelter of his arm.

"The 'heretics' no longer exist as separate entities, Siha."

"Maybe."

"You think otherwise?"

"Yeah, I do. Legion mentioned that their experiences would be absorbed into the geth shared consciousness. If I'd pulled the trigger, those memories would be gone forever."

"And if they were memories that should be lost?"

"Weird to hear _you_ say that. I mean, you've never forgotten _anything_."

"There are many things I would choose to forget if I could."

"It's not like you can just _choose_ to forget if you have a crappy memory like mine. If I could, I'd forget losing my family. Instead, I've forgotten things I'd rather remember."

"What sorts of things?"

"Oh, I don't know. I wish I could remember the songs Dad sang to me at bedtime when I was little. Instead, I just have faded pictures and the sense of his voice."

"And you think the geth should remember their separation?"

"It can't hurt. I mean, the divergence was something new for them, and I think remembering it will give them at least a little more of a sense of what it's like to be individual."

"Sympathy for organic life?"

"Yeah."

"Legion isn't at all what I expected, Siha. For a 'platform,' he seems to have a personality of his own, and an individual identity. I hadn't expected the individual 'geth' he contains to come to differing conclusions about how to handle the 'heretics.'"

"Makes you wonder about their society, doesn't it? I can't even begin to imagine how it is to function as an individual program inside a shared consciousness. I understood his confusion all too well. I mean, how many times have I been 'of two minds' about something?"

"The geth seems to have a strange attachment to you. He calls you by his own special name, 'Shepard-Commander.' Even Tali'Zorah and Garrus don't have affectionate names for you."

"And there's that piece of my armor he's wearing. I asked him about it, and he just said, 'There was a hole.'"

"If I didn't know better, I might think he worships you, Siha. You have noticed that we both refer to the 'platform' as 'he?'"

"Weird, isn't it? I thought it might be some kind of 'species-ist bias' as the Alliance training vids call it, but I'm not so sure."

"That you project your 'organic individual' perspective upon Legion, and assume he shares your view of the galaxy?"

"At first, yeah. But you talk to him, and you feel his distinctiveness. It's weird. I think he notices it too. You ask him a question about his own unique actions, and he just seems to blank out. Like he has no answer for his quirks, just like a human would."

"Do you ever regret killing the 'heretics' you fought when you sought Saren?"

"I wouldn't go that far. But I think all of us have really underestimated the value of inorganic life."

"I've come to truly appreciate EDI as an individual."

"You think she's actually an individual?"

"You do not believe she is?"

"I… It's weird. She seems like part of the crew, doesn't she?"

"Perhaps more than some of the ship's personnel. She definitely has a more pleasing personality than many aboard this ship."

"I really hate that you're right." She leaned into him and smiled.

"After meeting Legion and EDI, I've begun to wonder if the Council was indeed wise to ban AI research. What new forms of life, and what new forms of light have they kept from the galaxy?"

"Then again, there were the heretics. And we've got the Reapers waiting to annihilate everything."

"Are the heretics so different from Cerberus?"

"Now _that's_ an interesting question."

"And all of the geth will remember how it was to believe in the superiority of synthetic life."

"And they'll remember how that way of thinking was a damned bad idea. Not a bad thing, I think. I wish we could do the same thing to humans, sometimes."

"How was it to fight them?"

"Like Haestrom, over and over and over again. I'm still boggling over the fact that I honest-to-God _like_ a _geth_. What the hell is wrong with the galaxy?"

"I don't understand you, Siha."

"Never mind. I was just thinking how the galaxy's turned itself upside-down in the last couple years. I'm working with _Cerberus_ when I thought I'd be Alliance until I retired. I _died_. I fought geth, and now I almost consider one of them a _friend_."

"And you've claimed an alien's heart."

"Querido, the day I call you 'alien' is the day I carve out a huge chunk out of my soul and leave it to wither and die."

He had no words for that.

"You know, back on Omega, I even helped save a batarian's life. What the hell's wrong with me?"

"You think your action was incorrect?"

"I wish I had a geth-type off switch. It's a lot harder to have to do all this path-adjusting crap manually."

"For me as well. To divert you from a course takes all of the strength in the galaxy."

"Riiiight."

"Sidonis."

"Dios mio—and here's _my_ downside to perfect memory."

"And what of the quarians? If Tali'Zorah informs the Migrant Fleet of your actions, I can't imagine they will come to anyone's aid when the Reapers arrive."

"She probably already has. I guess I just have to have faith in Admiral Gerrel's sense of prudence—not that he has a history of it. And Admiral Koris' sense of obligation and Shala'Raan's self-preservation."

"You didn't mention Admiral Xen."

"Yeah. There's a reason for that. She's nuts. Worse than nuts, actually. She sent me a twisted 'thank you' once we got back to the ship. She's still picking over the remnants of Tali's dad's experiments, and she's finding things she can use."

She shuddered.

"Do you think she'll be successful?"

"Hard to say. I'm worried for Legion's people, though."

"Not 'the geth.'"

She shook her head. "Not anymore. Not in the way the quarians say it."

"'People,' a strange, but apt, way to refer to a network of sapient machines and programs. The quarians did their creations a disservice."

"Saving him was a good call, querido. A platform with a colony of individuals… Larger than Mindoir…"

"A colony within a body?"

"Mind-boggling, isn't it?"

"Have you ever wondered what might happen if a species set out to create artificial life and artificial intelligence just for its own sake alone? The Protheans intervened with the hanar, and taught them language. If the quarians had done something similar with the geth, rather than treating their creations as slaves, perhaps war could have been avoided."

"I don't know. I'm trying to imagine geth 'decision by consensus' working with a majority-ruled democracy as the Fleet mostly is. Can the two even exist side by side?"

"Decision by majority didn't seem to work within Legion's 'platform.'"

"True."

"Is that the reason you chose as you did? To honor what the bare majority of his programs preferred?"

She nodded. "It might have been a tiny majority, but it was still a majority. Legion knows his people better than I do."

"'Geth democracy,' two words I thought I would never speak together."

"There's a first time for everything. I'm just glad Legion's getting the chance to expand his horizons a bit."

"A species that links itself completely through networks and shares every thought and experience of perhaps trillions of programs needs to 'expand its horizons?' One that takes every last bit of information that is transmitted through the galaxy?"

"There's information and there's _experience_. Legion has just experienced real division within himself, and the parts of himself. He'll emerge stronger for it, and with more appreciation for what it is to _be_ non-geth forms of life. An individual whole among many. E pluribus unum." She grinned and tipped him a wink as he let his lids flicker.

"You seem to take pleasure in making my translator fail."

She snickered. "It's an old Latin motto the United States of America adopted centuries ago. 'Out of many, one.' Seems to sum up Legion to a T."

"I should speak more with Legion."

"Couldn't hurt. I just wish I could get Tali to speak with him more."

"Many things take time, Siha. I marvel that you were able to stop her from shooting him."

"You think it's progress? God, I hope so."

"Progress is a light that moves only slowly to destroy the galaxy's darkness."

She nodded. "Imagine cultural exchanges with the geth… I'd love to see what we can learn from them."

"Your 'off switch' seems to be working."

"Ha ha."

"You've never said such things of the rachni."

"I should've known that would come up again."

"Has your opinion of them changed?"

"Not really. The geth didn't try to destroy the galaxy. At least not Legion's geth."

"If they had, and you had been faced with Legion's attempts to save our lives, would you think differently?"

"Mm. I don't know. I can say this, the rachni queen didn't do jack shit to help me, Liara and Wrex take Benezia down, even though she could control the dead through her vat walls. A re-animated asari commando to freak Benezia out would have come in handy. I didn't buy her 'reform' speech at all, garbled and gibberish as it was."

"Gauging motives through actions seems an inexact science, Siha."

"So you said when we first met. Legion's actions _and_ words seem to match up. More than I can say for the rachni queen."

He remembered the endless gunfire, shorted, smoldering mech parts and blood and bits of flesh of various tints littering every floor of the Dantius Towers as she methodically worked her way through waves of mercs with her assault rifle. Even in the chaos, he noted she freed all the salarian workers he'd tried to save. '_So, if you were going to die in there, what the hell did you think would happen to the workers you'd trapped?' 'I had not thought of such things, Siha'. ' Then I guess it's good I brought a little chaos along for the ride, right?'_

"You cannot say the same thing for humans."

"Or any organic."

"Especially human Commanders."

He stopped her inevitable protest with his lips.


	19. Fear

She shifted in his arms as she drowsed. She seared him with her heat, and she had long since welded his soul to hers.

"Siha…"

"Mmm?"

"Thank you."

"Whaffor?"

"Mordin's vids seem to be correct."

"Huh?"

"They seemed to indicate that humans cannot speak properly after intimacy."

"C'mere, an stop talkin'…" She clutched at him and nibbled the green stripe just below his lower lip. The stripe she'd recently started calling his "kiss me here" stripe.

"The Collectors await us, but before…"

"'Gain, you wanna, a-gain? I'm game."

"So humans do regain the ability to speak. Eventually. Mordin's vids did not hint at how long it might take, however."

"Mordin's a liar. He said I'd get halluu- mild halluctinatons… Hallu… A bad trip. Unless you're not real, and I'm not here… You real?"

"And scrambles human brains, apparently."

"No halluu- bad trip is so damned talky!"

He'd never laughed quite so hard as he did when she stared at him, half-bemused, and completely befuddled.

"You gave me hope, Siha, and a reason…"

"Wait, how can you talk, when I'm a bunch of mush-brained stupid? Men can never talk after. Even hours after."

"Perhaps you should have watched Mordin's vids."

"No fair! You do what you just did, and turn me to a puddle, and you're _still_ eloquent as hell?"

"Puddles are definitely not eloquent. May I tell you what I've been trying to tell you now?"

"Me first."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Why were you ashamed, querido? You have _nothing_ to be ashamed of. Ever. Not with me."

"I had thought I'd put all attachment to this life behind me, that I had prayed enough that the gods had granted me acceptance. To fear, when the gods have either granted their grace or granted acceptance, is…"

"Well, then, I should never leave this room because I'd be the most ashamed person in the galaxy. Not that I should ever leave, anyway. Not while you're here."

"You fear, Siha?"

"Every day. All the time. I'd be afraid right now if you hadn't… umm, you know."

She curled up too close for him to see her face, and she mumbled when he backed away. But not enough to lose contact, to lose her warmth. He would never do that again, unless combat demanded it, or Kalahira decided to claim him.

"What is it you fear?"

"What _don't_ I fear? I'm afraid of losing you. I may have died once, but I'm not exactly thrilled at the idea of doing it all over again. Then there's the whole, 'What if I screw up and my crew dies?' thing. Shit, the Collectors already abducted them. I'm afraid of losing the galaxy. I'm afraid of what Cerberus is going to do to me and everyone else when they don't need us to take out the Collectors anymore. Sometimes I wake up in the middle of the night, and I could swear I see Miranda bending over me with a control chip in her hands."

"Losing me is first in your list of fears? I will do my best to survive, Siha. I swore to myself that I would watch over you for so long as the gods grant me the grace to move my body."

"It always was… almost from the first time I met you."

"Siha…" He slipped a finger beneath her chin and took her lips in his. He had slowly learned that the human physical method of communication could sometimes be more effective, and more accurate than words.

"There's nothing wrong with being afraid." Her heavy breaths subsided just enough that she could get the words out.

"Perhaps for humans…"

"Perhaps nothing. You can't just pray your feelings away, or say that certain feelings are bad. You feel the way you feel."

"I suppose you would truly know the ways of the gods since they sent you to me, Siha."

"Or maybe I spent years trying to do the same thing myself. But I like your interpretation better. Makes me feel _important_, like a _princess_…"

Her giggle both confused and inflamed him. He glanced at the clock on the bedside table—nearly an hour until they arrived at the relay.

"Perhaps you are more of an empress, for you are the queen of my soul, my heart, my everything."

"Dios mio, did the hanar train you in saying the perfect words at just the perfect moment? Because, if not, damn…"

"We have nearly an hour, Siha, if you would permit me to…"

"Are you trying to seduce me, Sere Krios?"

"Only if you wish it, my Siha."

"Mm. I'm warning you, though, my 'motivational speech' will probably only be single syllables and grunts."

"A smile should be sufficiently motivating on my part."

"I think I could manage that…"

He lost his fingers in her hair, and trapped them there; tangles and mussing held him captive. And yet she was all the more beautiful for it.

"Stay away from the word, 'hallucination.'"

"I'll… try…" A gasp.

"Thank you." A whisper in a shell-like ear. "So long as I am with you, I will never fear, and will feel no shame, my Siha."

She stared into his eyes, and noonday sky warmed him even more than her heat. She pulled him down atop her and flashed her brilliant smile.

"I won't either, querido. Never."


	20. Breathe Deep

He almost collapsed before Operative Lawson caught him. He would have stood in the entryway waiting if his body had not betrayed him, and as he choked on his way down to medbay, his heart screamed just as much as his lungs. She had been far back, gunning down the seekers that threatened them, and as the ship pulled away, the last of his air left him. She wasn't there when the Operative caught his arm, and he heard no hints of her voice over the shriek of his wheezing in his ears. Doctor Chakwas teetered as she took his other shoulder and wrestled him onto the spare examination bed. She grimaced as she propped pillows behind him.

"Mr. Krios, you must relax."

"My… Siha…"

The Doctor lay a hand on his forehead, and rubbed gently. "We don't know what's happened yet. I'm sure the Commander will inform us…"

"We're not sure if Shepard made it," Operative Lawson said. "Not yet."

"I can't imagine she wouldn't, not after she rescued us."

He gasped as the air seemed determined to flee from his nostrils and run from his lungs.

"I need to be available to the rest of the ship," Operative Lawson said. "As soon as I know we're clear I'll bring news of the Commander. Please don't bother EDI in the meantime."

"There's nothing you can do now, Mr. Krios," the Doctor said. "Just relax and breathe."

_Relax. Breathe._ Two words that seemed to be the most difficult actions ever demanded of him. He choked at the air and clutched at the bed's padding as he gasped.

"Mr. Krios, please. I need to see to Crewman Hadley. If I know the Commander at all, she's probably waiting to see us through the relay, and then she'll be right down."

He nodded and swallowed, though the air escaped his lungs' grasp. "Go… Doctor…"

The air came no easier as he waited for news. Somehow, no matter how he choked, he received just enough air to survive, but not to ease his seizing chest. Each gasp felt an eternity and each heave a century. He lacked the resources to count the breaths, to determine just how long he lay there, waiting. _Arashu, please grant your protection to your Siha, and may Kalahira spare me a few more moments to see her once again._ And yet, despite his prayers, Operative Lawson sent no word.

"Doc… Oh… damn!" After countless attempts at steadying his breath, she finally appeared, hair half-mussed, eyes wild. "Querido, what happened?"

"Siha…" His chest screamed with the effort of the word.

"Commander, Mr. Krios needs you to be calm. He had an attack after he pushed himself too hard, but he'll be fine."

"Just tell me what to do."

"I didn't have enough pillows to hold him up properly, so you'll need to support him. From what I've read of drell physiology, stroking their foreheads helps them relax. His chest needs to loosen with the rest of him so he can breathe again."

"You… are… not incorrect, Doctor," he managed.

She nodded and clambered on top of the examination bed as the Doctor held him up. He inhaled a full breath as the Doctor lay him and the pillows down on her lap before his chest tightened again and his gasping resumed. _She lives. Be easy._ But those words did little to calm him as he stared into a pair of the most worried eyes he'd ever seen.

"Let me know what feels good," she said as she stroked a finger over his brows. "I'm sorry I took so long… If I'd known, I would have…"

She ran her fingers just above his brow and swirled them around the deep patch Irikah had once called his "third eye." Her warmth felt… wonderful, but the motion did little to ease the hitching in his chest, or give him a rhythm to pace himself.

"No…" He reached a hand up to hers, but felt his vision waver at the effort. "Slowly… across."

She nodded and moved each hand from the opposite side of his forehead in sync until they met just above his nose, and then back again. Her rhythm matched that of the waves of Kahje, upon the beach that surrounded the spaceport, slow, gentle and ceaseless. As she stroked him she smiled as best she could, though her eyes spoke more of pain than happiness. He forced his exhalations to slowly match the pace of her hands in toward the center and outward again as she left trails of warmth behind in her movements.

"We're through the relay," she said as she rubbed him. "And we all made it. Somehow… A miracle…"

In and out, his mind forced his body to comply, to control the air that should have flowed within him. His chest loosened with each forced inhalation, and remained open as he exhaled. As his breath returned to his mind's control, she relaxed, and her smile also seemed to ease. Her hands brought him peace where his mind tormented him as he thought of his failure to watch over her. _She_ didn't seem to believe his body and his will had betrayed her.

"Siha…"

"You look like you're breathing, finally."

"Operative Lawson seemed to think you hadn't returned."

"It was close, querido. Closer than I would have liked. Garrus caught me."

He would have to thank the turian later for protecting her the way he should have. His own attempts to protect her had resulted in nothing more than dismal failure.

"I'm sorry, Siha, I should have…"

"Should have what?"

"Watched over you, been the one to pull you up when you fell."

She inhaled a particularly long draught of breath and held it for a beat before she forced it out in a torrent that chilled his crest.

"Only you," she said, her voice deceptively measured. "Only you would say something like that."

What lingered beneath, something dark and grieving, tore at him. He _had_ let her down, then.

"Siha, I…"

"Damn it! When the hell are you going to stop atoning for things you didn't do wrong? You helped me kill a goddamned _Reaper_, armed with nothing more than your guns and your wits, and you think you didn't do _enough_? Dios mio, you're insane!"

"And biotics."

"Fine, and goddamned biotics. The point still stands, querido. Fuck's sake…"

"It should have been my hands that pulled you to safety, not Garrus'. But my body failed you."

"It should have nothing. If there's anything you _should_ have done, it was to tell me if I was pushing you too hard. I can't…" A single drop of water on the tip of his nose from suddenly red eyes. "…have you hurt yourself for me. I just can't."

She'd never let up in her rhythm until a hail of further tears soaked him, and then the stroking turned to a frantic _wiping_ that she should have known was completely unnecessary after they'd showered together.

"I didn't know what we faced, Siha. I never intended my body's failure."

"And there you're apologizing again! Cut it out, damn it!"

"What is it you wish of me?"

"To just _be_, to _breathe_, to _live_ without saying you're sorry for your existence. How many times have you saved my life? And yet the one time it's someone else's turn, you're all over yourself with blame!"

"Siha…"

"Just enjoy God's miracle for what it is. We _won_ and we all survived."

_God's miracle_.

"You speak from faith."

"Maybe… Yeah. Getting rid of Cerberus on top of it all puts our survival into the realm of miracles."

"We no longer work with Cerberus?" Her hands worked their way down to his cheeks and back up again to his brows.

"Miranda didn't bother to tell me you were sick until I'd had my usual little post-mission lecture session with the Illusive Man and had figured I'd find you in our quarters."

_Our quarters_. He shivered as the import of her words hit him; she thought of herself as a part of _we_ just as he did.

"When you weren't there, I figured you were meditating. Anyway, we're done with Cerberus. For good, I hope."

He reached up and interlaced his fingers behind her neck. She seemed to sense his intent before he could even apply the slightest pressure, and bent to meet his lips. He should have considered his position, or so he discovered as the upside-down kiss turned into an awkward, sloppy and wet mess that made her erupt into giggles. She kissed his chin and let her hands wander just beneath it, a relentless tickle that set him to purring.

"Shepard, you should have told me you broke ties with the Illusive Man!" Operative Lawson, as usual, showed up at the wrong time.

"Sorry, Miranda. Important things came up." She drew back only slowly, and when she did, he caught a glimpse of the Operative's moue and almost reflexive flinching.

"You appear to be feeling better, Mr. Krios. I'm glad to see it."

"Much better," Doctor Chakwas said. "The Commander has worked another of her miracles. You still need to rest, Mr. Krios, but I see no reason to keep you here."

"'Humanity needs a leader who's looking out for them. From now on, we're doing things my way, whether you agree or not?'" He hadn't expected Operative Lawson to crack a smile or to lighten her words with laughter. "Shepard, you could have been more diplomatic."

"Diplomacy with that asshole? And since when was I a diplomat? I leave that shit to bottom-feeders like Udina."

"It might have eased a little of his harshness when I gave him my own resignation." Was there more to this Operative than he had first thought? Perhaps Ellen had been correct in her assessment of this woman's character.

"Hey, what about Oriana?"

"I have a few strings I can pull to relocate her family again, and this time I'll do it without Cerberus' help."

"Do you need me to do anything?"

"Get a little rest, take care of Mr. Krios, and tell the rest of the crew what happened once you've slept. An exhausted Commander is of no use to anyone."

"Thanks, Miranda. For everything."

"Just part of the job, Commander." She smiled and then seemed to vanish as quickly as she'd come.

"Commander," the Doctor said, "I'm clearing Mr. Krios. Just make sure he doesn't over-exert himself again." She shot a glare at him as he sat up on his elbows. _Don't make me tell her, Mr. Krios_, she seemed to say.

"I'll do my best, Doc. Querido, are you ok to move?"

"With eagerness, my Siha." He inhaled as deep as his lungs would allow and felt the air invigorate every last cell in his body. "I sense this is not the end for Cerberus. The Illusive Man will not allow such an insult to pass without vengeance."

"No. But, you know what? I don't give a flying fuck. If he has the slightest bit of common sense, he'll steer clear until we've kicked some Reaper ass."

He leaned on her until they reached _their_ quarters. He could have walked completely under his power, but he enjoyed the feel of her enhanced strength against his side. He needed his own strength for the battles he knew lay ahead. More Reapers to slay with little more than a sniper rifle and wits? Or perhaps something more menacing. He inhaled again as she led him inside, inside where she kept the humidity low, and the heat too high for human comfort. But she seemed to have adapted well enough to it.

"This 'ass kicking,' Siha…"

"What about it?"

"I look forward to it."

"Me too. Now get the hell into bed!"

**Musing**_: _Things are more or less "over," though I've been idly toying with the idea of a Grunt-related chapter. Is anyone interested? Otherwise, I'll mark this "complete," and finally put the chapters in order. Also, should I separate out the Normandy chapters into another separate story? I didn't get much (any) feedback when I first posted "Farewell, Normandy," so I just kind of rolled it in here where I hoped someone might read it. But I think it works a little better as a freestanding story of its own.


	21. Sholah

He wasn't sure how she'd roped him in to aiding her and Gardner in preparing human dishes, some now a little familiar, and others completely foreign, but he'd never understood many things about her. The _Normandy_ was barely more than a ruin, and they remained vulnerable to whichever goons the Illusive Man might send after them in a relatively obscure sector of space that hovered on the edge of geth territory. _It's ok—they'll keep an eye out for Cerberus until we're through with repairs,_ she'd said. _Legion gave me his word._ Unlike most on the ship, he completely trusted their geth companion. He stirred and smashed "chickpeas" as she squeezed small yellow citrus fruits she called lemons. Gardner sautéed something on the stove that smelled almost grassy with a rich earthiness beneath.

"You have that bread ready yet, Commander?" Garnder asked. "The stuffing's almost ready."

"Working on it!" She shot him a grin, and drizzled a few drops of the fruit juice onto some flour she'd worked into a thick lump. "God, it smells like home!"

"You use lemon in that?" The mess sergeant wrinkled his nose.

"Yeah—just wait until you taste it; Nan's recipe was a cut above anything I ever ate anywhere else. You don't use that much—just a couple of drops for this batch. A ship's worth demands a full lemon, but we have five batches to go yet." She patted out the lump into a thin sheet and went to work in chopping it into medium-sized squares.

"Who is Nan, Siha?"

"The woman who made it possible for Mom, for me, and for a lot of generations to live free. The word is an affectionate one that means, 'grandmother.' She was more my great-great-great-great, I don't know how many 'great-grandmother.'"

"A family celebration? Drell have few such rituals."

She grinned. "It used to be a huge party and a major holiday for all of the women in my family, as far as I know. Maybe other branches of the family are gearing up for the party with better ingredients, but I'm doing what I can. The bolani filling smells just amazing, Gardner!"

She and Gardner dished spoonfuls of the greenish mass onto the squares, and she folded the squares in half, smashing the lumps gently flat.

"You no longer celebrate?"

"I haven't had anyone I wanted to celebrate with for years now—the last time was three months before the batarians hit. It's a family event. Really, you can't celebrate alone, and you can't celebrate when you're not close to the people around you."

She'd been up late the night before, chopping chunks of "chicken" so they could soak in a sauce of spicy "peppers" and "olive" oil. He'd missed her and mourned the empty space in _their_ bed, but her words more than made up for it now. _Family_. He slipped his arms around her and she dropped the spoonful she'd been aiming at the center on the edge instead. She looked at his huge bowl of squashed legumes and nodded, then leaned back against him with a soft sigh.

"Needs some olive oil now. Got the garlic chopped, Gardner?"

"Yeah, yeah, just a damned minute!"

"Relax. Jesus. I'm a little busy myself right now."

"So, if your several-generations-past grandmother had not made a decision, you would not be commanding a ship?"

"Probably. I should tell you Nan's story, hunh?"

He pressed his lips against her temple.

"If you did so, Siha, I might wonder less why we linger over food while the rest of the crew labors on the ship."

"Ok, the quick version. Nan was Sholah Ahmadi, an Afghan exchange student who lived about two hundred years ago. She was the first woman in her family to get an advanced education, thanks to the Russians. She was approved to study in the United States, a country in North America. She loved everything about it. And then, in the middle of her first year of school, the Russians withdrew from Afghanistan after facing years of guerrilla warfare. Her mother and father were killed when their hut burned around them as they slept. Nan's visa was recalled and she was about to return home when a friend of hers, a naturalized Indian man, the first generation of his family to live in the States, said he'd marry her so she could stay."

"Was returning so terrible, Siha?"

"Yeah. The stories Nan passed down pretty much confirmed what the history books say, that the rebels who took Afghanistan back from the Russians were a bunch of religious freaks who forced women to veil, kept them from learning _anything_, and pretty much locked them inside when no man was around to escort them places. Much as I hate invasions, this one lifted some of the people out of really backward, really awful conditions. Nan would have probably been married off to some old fart of a tribal leader who she didn't know."

"Humans did such things to their women? I have trouble believing this."

"Believe it," Gardner said.

"Check out a few vids—I know EDI probably has some sitting in storage somewhere. Nan loved the Russians quite a lot, even though she'd essentially become their worst enemy. Anyway, Nan loved everything about the American lifestyle, especially the music, no matter how 'decadent' any of her former countrymen would have thought it. She reveled in it, basked in it. Today is the anniversary of the day she got her permanent residence."

"This grandmother of yours went from an ordered marriage to one intended for a single goal? Siha, the more I try to understand humans, the more I find myself confused."

"Just remember, things were different then than they are now. She married him because she didn't want to go back, because she loved where she was, and she did love him. Enough to have two daughters and a son with him. But not enough to keep her from her last love: men."

"You still celebrate her knowing this?"

"We're all flawed."

"That is very true."

"She did a lot, also. Got two advanced degrees in business management. Opened her own small chain of computer repair stores in New York, and she worked _very_ hard to make them successful. She smuggled her little sister over illegally when she was on the brink of marriage age under the Taliban. 13, I think, still considered a little girl in most countries on Earth. Her children adored her, and every last one of her six daughters went on to get advanced degrees. She did this barely knowing English when she first came over. She treated her employees like family, and she managed to stay on good terms with her husbands."

Gardner let out a long whistle. "Just how many husbands we talkin'?"

"Four. I'm descended from the third, a Zimbabwean businessman, Farai Mandiveyi. Her second daughter by him, Grace."

"Huh. A few of the crewmen took bets on where you came from, Commander. Afghan and Zimbabwean. Goldstein had you pegged as African. Closest we got, actually."

"What?"

"I have heard a few rumors, Siha. I was loath to tell you for this very reason."

"_Dios mio._"

"Daniels said Mexican. Hah!"

"Good luck guessing."

"I find myself intrigued as well. You seem somewhat more exotic in coloring than most of the humans on this ship."

"Guess away, querido."

He spun her to face him—she'd long since forgotten the spoon that lay half forlorn atop her unfinished "bolani"—and stared deep into the warmth of early afternoon. He knew her breath would come sharp soon, and she'd pull him closer. He smiled, perhaps the most artful he'd attempted, even in his most earnest days courting Irikah, and softened his hand with her velvet cheek.

"You do not wish to enlighten me, my Siha?"

"Yeah, you think that's going to work, don't you?" She grinned. "Nice try."

"_Family_ should know family."

"It's just… complicated. Almost all of Nan's descendants took her course and married the most interesting people they could find. They married immigrants, foreigners, people outside their culture... I couldn't even begin to list them all. Dad was Scottish, Mom was from Nan's line."

"Scottish." Gardner shook his head.

"Blane Shepard."

"Dammit!"

He raised an eyebrow at the mess sergeant.

"Shit, Donnelly's just as close as Goldstein, and I'm sixty credits in the toilet."

She snickered and finally pulled him tight against her. "You want to make up the difference? Ask Donnelly for a couple hands of Skyllian Five."

"So now I know why you're with an alien, Commander: it's in your blood."

"Hm." He couldn't think of a proper reply. At least her grandmother's promiscuity wasn't "in her blood."

"You know, I still have that 'Sensitivity' vid."

"Aww, shit! I didn't mean it that way. Look, Krios, the Commander did good when she hooked up with you instead of one of the other guys who stare at her on the ship."

"Other guys?" She narrowed her eyes at the sergeant.

"What, you think this is a monk-house in space? It's a damned Cerberus ship…"

"Was a Cerberus ship."

"Was, whatever. It ain't the Alliance with its celibacy. You treat our Commander with respect. You're ok in my books, Krios. You look at her like I used to look at my wife."

"Your wife no longer lives?"

"Nah, the pirates got her. My kids. Damn batarians!"

"Yours also… And my Siha's family. Do you think your 'Nan' would appreciate the galaxy? There is so much darkness, and so many have been hurt, but sometimes the light outshines even the darkest shadow."

She nestled at his side and shook her head.

"I don't know. She'd love the food, the cultures, and probably even the shit that passes for music. But the rest of it? EDI, did you ever download that song? 'Rhythm Corps, Common Ground?'"

"The title is in English, Shepard."

"Play it, would you? This is her favorite song—about peace, negotiation. She'd hate me for letting the Council die."

He stood with her in silence as the ancient Earth song played. _Can we seat ourselves around/A table for a while and talk /Like friends we have found…_ Earnest, honest, hopeful, and naïve, and with a half-infectious but alien rhythm. A very _human_ song, full of that unusual idealism he'd sensed in most of the humans he'd met.

"She lived during a time when two peoples she loved more than anything fought a war of silence and coldness, kind of like human relations with the turians. She wanted them to just get along, just like a lot of the humans who lived at the time. There's so much war, so much hatred. A lot of it is my fault. I guess the best I can do is to try to remember her and what she made possible. You got the rest of the songs I asked for, right EDI?"

"Of course, Shepard."

"Thanks."

"I sense there is more to this celebration than just food, Siha."

"Food, drinking, music and dancing. Nan's favorite songs from the first year she spent in America. Or at least the ones I could remember the names of. The OSD my family had of all her favorite songs- and there were hundreds- along with her recordings about why she loved them was destroyed on Mindoir. Other than that, it's the company. What really matters the most."

"Family." He knew what he had to find for her, the only true way he could thank her.

"Yeah."

"I'm honored that you would include me, Siha."

"I can't celebrate without you, querido."

He tasted hints of rich spices on her tongue, perhaps a hidden touch of grassiness; she must have sneaked a spoonful of that mixture Gardner had just made. He would have tasted more, but for a hoarse hacking and a gruff voice.

"Those bolani ain't gonna cook themselves, Commander."


	22. Rhythm of Love

Many apologies to Yes for stealing their song title.

He set the clock's alarm to the data stream he'd sourced for her, a song she'd forgotten, and after, to a voice she likely remembered. She breathed slowly in the background, and rustled the covers as she shifted, her shadow-hair a sharp contrast to the snowy sheets below. He shed his jacket and jumpsuit in a quick motion, and folded them. The contrast, as always, amused him as he lay his clothes next to the chaotic jumble of her underwear and coveralls on the desk. She'd left her "bra" draped over the charred remains of her old N-7 helmet. He slid beneath the covers and snuggled close to her. Her damp flesh slipped against his, and her nipple grew in his grasp. He resisted the urge to roll it between his fingers, no matter how intriguing he found its constantly changing shape. She'd left the temperature above normal: an act of forgetfulness, or of expectation? _I must meditate, Siha… Tonight? No! Her voice a protest, a scream without volume. I will see you in the morning._

She mumbled something incoherent and nestled closer. It sounded something like, _Hello_, though the sounds seemed too garbled for him to be sure.

"Good morning, my Siha." A whisper. He hoped he wouldn't wake her.

"Mm… Finally." Her eyes half-opened, and she turned over to face him before she closed her eyes, and the slow rhythm of her breathing resumed.

_Twenty minutes._ He watched her and let his body drift in her heat until her breath soothed him into a light doze. The song woke him before it woke her, and he waited as the tick of the percussion and the opening notes fell like one of the rare gentle Kahje rains, one of the few that allowed him to _breathe_ without endless choking moisture. An evening of ancient Earth music had left him with an appreciation for the species that even _she_ hadn't managed to give him. This was the music that most humans had perhaps deliberately forgotten, but had encompassed the hope and the day-to-day feelings of what she had called, "early modern humans." Early modern humans who seemed to share the same optimism and idealism that had become what he considered a defining trait of their species. The pilot had just snickered at her as the first of the songs played. _Not this crap, Commander. We outgrew this junk two centuries ago._

_You can look at the menu but you just can't eat… You can feel the punishment but you can't commit the sin…_

She stirred in his arms and breathed deep before her eyes popped open. "Where did you find this song? I… Was this what you were doing?"

"Just listen, Siha."

_You can build the mansion, but you can't live in it… You're the fastest runner, but you're not allowed to win. Doctor says you're cured, but you still feel the pain…_

"I remember this from when I was a little girl. Not the first of Nan's favorites, but…"

…_and you want her, and she wants you…_

She nibbled at his lower lip and moved her way up to the tip of his nose.

"The last time I heard this, I was ten or eleven, I think."

She explored his lips with her tongue, a soft lapping heat that drove him close to madness, and forced him to surrender to his growing desire, no matter how he wished to wait for the song's end. _No one ever is to blame…_ He pulled her atop him and clutched at her buttocks as her lower hair rubbed at him with an unbearable friction.

"Missed you, querido…" A whisper between heavy breaths, and her slickness more than proved her words correct.

A woman's deep rich laugh, much like her own, and then, "Howard Jones is my _favorite_! His songs are so happy, so much fun, and when they're not…" the voice through the translator seemed accented almost exactly as Tali'Zorah's own speech, "they're so _pretty_!"

She sat upright and nearly squashed him, her heavy breathing forgotten as her eyes widened and her jaw tumbled open.

"How did you… Where did you… I…" She collapsed to the side of him, and rolled away. Her shoulders shook and small sobs wrenched at his hammering heart.

"Siha?"

She rolled over and stared at him, her eyes flame red, the torrential rains of Kahje rolling down each cheek. "I… No one ever… I don't know…"

He wrapped his arms around her and she squeezed him with every last bit of her strength. He waited for the sobs and the gasps to run dry, for her to explain what tormented her heart. As he waited, he stroked her hair, traced her ears with his fingers, and tried to hold back the tight clenching in his lungs as her tears soaked his chest. The sobs subsided, but slowly, and as the air thickened, his own breath came shorter and shorter.

"Sorry…" she said, her own chest hitching. "I… No one has ever done anything like this for me, and I…"

"I thought to offer you the gift of memory, Siha."

"This is… I don't know how to… I… Thank you. I wish I had the words…"

"I feared for a few moments that you might not like it."

"I… Sorry… I… So many memories, so many of the best times in my life are wrapped up in this music, and I… And you… How did you find this?"

"A contact or two. Some extranet searching… Operative Lawson cooperated when I spoke with her. Legion helped with encryption and storage. You have relatives on the Citadel, Siha."

"I need to make copies… Five, six…" She struggled in his arms. "I can't lose this again."

"A copy waits on the Citadel, in the hands of the volus banker I told you of. Legion has a copy stored on geth servers. I have a copy in Life Support, and EDI maintains a copy as well. I transmitted another to Liara T'Soni."

She stared at him, her eyes brilliant red, but the tears had stopped, thank Arashu. He hadn't begun to imagine that humans could cry for gratitude and happiness.

"You really think of everything, don't you? I… This means so much… I just wish I could thank you the right way. But you… You look exhausted…"

"You do not wish to know more of your family?"

"Sleep, querido. Everything will still be here when you wake up."

Her tears had distracted him from his body, and as he looked at her, he felt his outer lids droop.

"The body wills my sleep. I wish I had been here to enjoy it with you."

"I love you, querido. I…" The words came out slow, halting. He felt her heart slam against his ribs. "Damn, now I sound like an idiot."

"You didn't need to speak the words, Siha; I already knew. I wish I had been able to muster the courage to speak them first. I love you."

"What you did… Damn. I'll just shut up now. Can you stay awake a little longer? Trust me, I won't take long…" She nuzzled his neck and ran her fingers along his frills.

"May the gods grant me the will to stay sleep, my Siha. If not the gods, then love."

"Love will find a way," she sang, her voice gentle in his ears, though if he were to be honest, it was as dreadful as her dancing. "If you want it to…"

"Siha?"

"The next song."

And she had claimed her memory was "swiss cheese."


End file.
